Growing Up Kneazle
by Manatocfox
Summary: On the cusp of Harry's third birthday an impressive display of accidental magic will change his life forever. When Harry is rediscovered nearly nine years later, what will become of our intrepid hero when he finally attends Hogwarts? Sequel now posted!
1. Two years old, almost three

**I do not own any intellectual property rights to Harry Potter or JK Rawlings work. All use here is purely for entertainment value and not intended to make money. I would like to thank Ms. Rowling for graciously allowing all fanfiction writers to play in her world.**

Hi All. I would like to thank everyone who takes the time to read this story and assure you that more will be coming soon. It is my first fanfiction and as such please be patient with formatting errors and the like. Credit for this story idea goes to **The Natural Animagus** written by wsbenge. The basic idea and some of the plot points you may recognize, but I wanted to do a larger story with more in depth action. Currently the plan is for this story to span years 1-3. Thank you for reading.

The two year old boy.

In a small suburb of Surry England lived a very normal family in a very normal house located at number four privet drive. The Vernon and Petunia Dursley were proud parents of a large two year old boy. They were also guardians of another boy the same age. His name was Harry, and despite his relation through his mother's side it was still the Dursley's deepest held fear that someone would discover the small child existed.

They had found little Harry one morning barely a few months old on their doorstep with a note explaining how Harry's parents had up and gotten themselves killed, and it was now _their_ responsibility to take care of the orphan. A few choice phrases were all that stopped Vernon from dropping the small child at the local orphanage that morning. Unfortunately for Harry despite the distain from his current caretakers he was quite a precocious child. At his current tender age of two he could use the toilet on his own, had a surprising vocabulary and remarkable two legged mobility. This stood in stark contrast to his cousin who was what most psychologists would say was a 'late bloomer'. This only fueled the resentment the Dursleys felt towards their unwanted ward and did nothing to help improve Harry's home life. All in all an outside observer would note that this boy was headed for a long and rather unpleasant childhood, and in another world he might have been except for a stroke of fate, the good hearts of a few of the local feline population, and the unobservant nature of an old widow.

Arabella Figg had graciously accepted her assignment from Dumbledore two days after the miraculous defeat of you-know-who. She was a squib and unable to properly use magic in her own right. While her parents and brother were understanding, she had felt positively useless throughout the whole war. Dumbledore and her brother Sebastian had assured her that her small assignments were critical to the war effort, and just as valuable as those that tracked down and disposed of the dark lord's followers.

That's why when asked to watch over the young savior of the wizarding world she jumped at the chance. Mrs. Figg had moved with the help of the Order from the house she shared with her brother in Ottery St. Catchpole to a small unassuming house not two blocks from the residence of young Harry Potter. It was perfectly close enough to allow her to maintain her protective surveillance and far enough away that the Dursley's hating of all things freakish wouldn't be aroused by her odd tendencies.

Apart from her minor inclusion in the recently disbanded Order of the Phoenix and her close relationship with her brother, the only real chores on her time were to care for the family's pride of kneazles. A kneazle is a wizarding equivalent of a house cat but can grow up to 15 kilograms and far more closely resembles the North American bobcat except for their long fluffy tails. Most people thought they were Manecoons.

Arabella quickly became a fixture in the local community. Although regarded as somewhat odd she was tolerated none the less because of her willingness to child mind at all hours and for very reasonable rates. Everyone knew that she had lost her husband in a steel accident, which was true, and that with no other relatives nearby the companionship of children was a welcome one. In truth the old woman was hoping that one day the Dursleys would allow young Harry to periodically find his way to her house so she could more easily keep an eye on him. Despite the assurances of Dumbledore she was not hopeful.

Thus it came as some shock one morning when the silver haired widow opened the door and found a immaculately groomed but scowling Petunia Dursley fiercely holding a disheveled and scared two year old Harry Potter. "You're the Figg woman?" Petunia asked.

"Yes, is there something I can do for you?" Mrs. Figg responded hesitantly. She wasn't at all sure where this conversation was going.

"Yes, our little Duddykins needs his booster shots today and he's such a tenacious child I was hoping you could watch this terror while we're gone. I talked to Victoria yesterday and she said you had a good hold on children."

"Well I have been known to child mind from time to time. He's not too much trouble I hope?" The old woman asked tentatively. She had heard stories about the boy's father and his friends when they were at Hogwarts and imagined that if he was indeed his father's son... Her train of thought was cut off by the sudden trill of Petunia's voice.

"Well I wouldn't trust him alone in my house, but if you just shut him in one of the bedrooms he'll be fine. Just hide the cookies and your checkbook."

"Well I..." Mrs. Figg was once again cut off.

"Fine, we'll pay you double if that's what it takes!" Petunia shrilled.

"No no... I think five pounds an hour is more than reasonable Mrs. Dursley. I'm sure little..." Arabella faltered. No magic was required to act and Arabella Figg had at one time fancied herself quite the leading woman.

"Harry"

"Yes, I'm sure young Harry here won't be a problem. He isn't allergic to cats is he? I do have quite the number of them."

"I'm sure he's not. We don't have any of course. We'll be back to pick him up this evening." With that Petunia Dursley roughly shoved Harry into the odd house of Arabella Figg and her... cats. As soon as the door shut several of the large furry animals came forward to investigate the new arrival with eager noses and curious eyes.

An interesting, but little known fact about Kneazles is that they can sense the magical core of a human like a dog can scent or an artist can separate colors, the Kneazle can identify a witch or wizard by their magical signature. Mrs. Figg watched from across the room as her furry charges one by one came out to greet the new visitor. First the Father of the pride and several older sons came to identify if the boy was a threat, then many of the younger males came to investigate if the small child would be a decent playmate.

Arabella smiled softly. They did this to everyone, but the inquisitiveness of her Kneazles was always amusing. They had been angry with her for some time for packing them from their ancestral hunting grounds in Ottery St. Catchpole, but they had refused to leave her and since she was coming here they did as well. By now they had taken to the neighborhood well enough she supposed.

The old woman's eyes nearly bugged out of her skull; in sauntered the pride mother leading her four kittens to meet the boy-who-lived. In the year or so she had been living here never had the pride mother come out to investigate a child staying at the house.

Having spent her life raising and caring for her Kneazles Arabella Figg had become somewhat of an expert on the subject matter. Kneazles were by default social creatures not unlike humans and their canine companions. Although the proper term of a den of the magical felines was a Pride, Arabella always felt they had far more in common with wolves. They lived thirty years or better, and only the top male and female produced any kittens with the rest of the pride protecting the female and her kittens. For the Mother to come with her new litter was astounding.

Harry was staring intently at the posse of large cats surrounding him, and with very little encouragement he was soon rolling with them and playing hide-and-go-seek. He loved the way their fur felt and the tickle of their whiskers. Hours passed and before he knew it Harry was sound asleep on the couch, when a loud rapping awoke him.

Harry saw the meaty form of his uncle in the doorway and felt a surge of fear.

"Boy!" His uncle bellowed. "Come here! Time to go home."

Why? Harry wished, not for the first time that day that he could just stay in that house forever. Even with its odd smells today was still the best day his two year old mind could remember.

"Boy! Come Here!" In three strides his uncle had crossed the living room floor and grabbed the back of his neck. A series of hisses was heard as all but one or two of the largest cats fled for the safety of the basement.

"We might be bringing him back next week for Dudley's birthday." Vernon huffed, as he slapped a fifty pound note on the coffee table and stormed out.

That night Harry was confined to his bedroom once more. Really it was a cupboard under the stairs, but his uncle was determined to convert it into a living space and so had fixed a piece of plywood to hinges on the frame, at least until the carpenter could come out next week to set it right.

The dark haired boy's green eyes pooled with tears once more, as he wished with all his might he could be a cat just like the ones he played with this afternoon. He wanted to run free and feel the wind on his face and the grass on his feet. With that happy thought he drifted silently off to sleep without feeling the warm rush of accidental magic.


	2. The fifth kitten

Ch2: The fifth kitten

Harry awoke early the next morning and instantly noticed that something was different. Everything seemed... bigger. He stared around at the inside of his room and noticed that even in the early morning gloom everything was brighter and larger. He could hear everything it seemed. He stretched once more and took a good look at his paws. PAWS! He, Harry, had paws, just like he wished for. Standing up he could feel the difference of being on four legs instead of two. It really happened he was a cat! Now he could go back to that nice lady's house and play all day again! This was the happiest moment in his life.

Jumping awkwardly off his bed, Harry squeezed through the crack in the plywood and headed towards the front door. Walking on four legs came easily to Harry, but unfortunately doorknobs did not. So for the next two hours Harry spent waiting in front of the door for his uncle to fetch the morning paper. Hiding behind the shoe rack he waited until the door was open just enough. Then like greased lighting he was out past his uncle's feet and ignoring his startled cries and ran pell mell down the street towards the unmistakable scent of cat and cabbage. Of course only still being a kitten made the journey somewhat more arduous that Harry had initially anticipated, and several hours later he felt no closer to his goal than before.

Hobbes was small for a Kneazle, with an orange and white spotted coat it gave people the distinct impression of his being involved with the circus in a former life. In this life however he was watching a nearly all black Kneazle kitten trying to cross the street towards their caretaker's house. Despite what humans might think it is a well known fact amongst all Kneazles that they choose the wizard, not the other way around. It greatly concerned the orange Kneazle that one of mother's kittens could have wandered so far out from the den without anyone noticing. Without further fuss he sauntered over to the small black one and grabbed the green eyed cat's scruff and promptly delivered him back to the den.

Harry was ecstatic, a much larger Kneazle had carried him almost the entire way back to the house with the funny smelling lady and the rest of the cats. However once inside he wasn't welcomed with the same enthusiasm as before. He could feel the tension and suspicion in the air. They could feel his magical core, and knew he had to be a Kneazle (what else could he be?). The issue lay in his adoption. Although no words per-say were exchanged Harry could feel the conversation between the large male and the mother.

They were... discussing him. No one has ever been able to properly describe what a Kneazle conversation is like, but if it had to be put into words its rather like a nonverbal exchange of feelings. Harry could feel the love and protectiveness form Mother cat and the suspicion from the Father, as he had deduced the large male to be. Mother wanted him to belong, wanted to feed him and care for him. Father wasn't so sure. He felt that all outsiders were suspect and should be treated accordingly. The tension in the room grew palpable and soon even the other kittens began pacing with anticipation. It wasn't until Mother began carrying the other four away with a profound feeling of disappointment that a grudging acceptance came from Father. With all mated pairs there exists an unwritten rule, 'if momma ain't happy ain't nobody happy'. This happily applied here.

That morning Arabella woke to find a fifth kitten in the house. This was concerning because while she was old, the ability to count to five had not eluded her yet and she clearly remembered that there were only four the night prior which begged the question where did this small kitten come from. The breeding female Mrs. Figg had simply named 'Mum' grudgingly allowed her newest kitten to be inspected by the old woman.

Mrs. Figg raised the new arrival to the counter and gently set him down to study. He was all black except for a small white patch above his left eye that looked curiously like a lightning bolt, and he had the most striking green eyes. How interesting. Unfortunately he was a little on the scrawny side, and reminded her not unpleasantly of the Potter boy she had minded just yesterday.

"Well, I suppose Harry is as good a name for you as any. Better than some I've heard." With that the kitten pushed his head forcefully into her hand. "You seem to like that, you do. Well 'Harry' I think its time for you to go back to your mother and I need to fetch my morning tea." With that the Kneazles caretaker set little Harry back next to Mum and strode off resolutely to find herself some tea.

Mrs. Figg was concerned. It had been three weeks and she had not seen any sign of the boy-who-lived. The Dursleys had not brought Harry back on schedule and she hadn't seen hide nor hair of the young boy. His third birthday would be coming up and she had hoped maybe to bake him a cake or some such but she hadn't been able to see him even when she had visited on the pretense of borrowing a cup of sugar. She decided others needed to be informed.

Taking a pinch of green powder she threw it into the fire and said loudly "Headmaster, Hogwarts!" Speaking through the floo was always somewhat of a disconcerting experience for her.

"Ah Arabella how may I help you madam?" Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School Witchcraft and Wizardry, and one hundred other titles far too long to pronounce asked.

His formality made the old woman smile. She always did like Dumbledore. "Headmaster I am growing a bit concerned. I haven't seen Harry in three weeks and I've even been over to his house. I was wondering if one of the order could perhaps pop in and have a look."

Dumbledore's famous twinkle dimmed a little at this. "Arabella I'm sure its nothing, but I am equally sure I will be there shortly. Please step back I'm coming through."

With an small pulse of flame the supreme Mugwump stepped out into the perfectly ordinary house of Arabella Figg looking like the worst nightmare of any Dursley personified. With a smile and a wink the wizened headmaster apparated with a soft 'pop' to the front door of number four privet drive.

A soft knocking interrupted the Dursley's evening meal and caused some consternation among the family as to _whom_ exactly would be calling at this inauspicious hour. Vernon raced to the front door as fast as his considerable bulk would allow when he heard his wife's shrill scream. Visions of burglars, murderers, motorcycle gangs, and tall scarred men with trench coats and very little else all flashed through his mind. What he found was much much worse. A tall silver bearded man with half-moon spectacles and flowing purple robes and a pointed hat stood on his doorstep. Vernon Dursley felt right then that God really hated him.

"Ah, Mr. Dursley as I was asking your wife I was just wondering if I could perchance come in and have a chat with your nephew." The old man softly intoned.

A gibbering Vernon was nearly speechless "Bu.. wha... NO! You sir need to leave now! Before I call the police!"

At this his purple robed adversary smiled "Ah Mr. Dursley it wouldn't do to have the police involved in this matter. Imagine the social consequences of such an incident. I am merely here to check on Mr. Potter's welfare."

"Harry!" Petunia shrieked. "He's not here! You people drop him off, no warning no real explanation and then vanish him just as suddenly! No consideration from your lot!"

At this Dumbledore frowned. "Perhaps if you would allow me in,"

"Absolutely not! Enough of a problem we've already had with you freaks! I'm not about to let you go gallivanting through the house stealing the best silver!"

Vernon noticed at this the old man's eyes hardened and his former jovial tone was lost. "Madam, I do not as you so aptly put it 'steal the best silver' nor did any of 'our kind' vanish young Harry overnight. Currently it seems that we have a case of a missing child and I am quite sure the local authorities would be most concerned to know that you did not report him as such for some time." Both Dursleys paled at the implications. "However," Dumbledore continued "If you would allow me in for mere minutes we can be sure that indeed the young Mr. Potter is not simply playing an elaborate hoax and as long as neither of you had anything to do with his sudden disappearance I see no need to involve anyone from your child welfare office."

After an interminable time it seemed Vernon had made up his mind "Well get on with it then. No sense in keeping you outside where the whole neighborhood can get a good look."

Arabella Figg heard the soft pop of Dumbledore's apparition and hurried to hear what news had been discovered, nearly tripping over several Kneazle kittens on the way. "Dumbledore, you found him then?"

"Hardly, it appears that he has gone missing. I will need you to begin contacting the Order. Have them meet me at Hogwarts tomorrow morning. It is imperative we return him to his family immediately."

The silver haired squib shook her head frantically, praying the boy was alive. With a flash of green the headmaster was gone once more. No one realized that their quarry was in the same room with his new adopted family listening to the ongoing conversation. Whether or not the rest of the pride could truly understand the spoken words of humans (and this has been debated hotly over the years) Harry certainly had an understanding that the old man wanted him to return from his recently departed prison and this upset him greatly. Without realizing it he began to broadcast his distress. Mum quickly collected her newest kitten by his scruff and began to bathe him.

The rough tongue against his fur was a balm that soothed away the worry and concern. Harry felt her love projected and an overwhelming sense of security. The pride would keep him safe. With that comforting thought he curled into the side of his newest mother and fell asleep listening to the lullaby of her deep rumbling purr.

Dumbledore was not often a worried man, and patience was his strongest virtue. However today was not going as well as he'd planned. He sat once again studying a series of delicate instruments that told him two very important and somewhat opposite things. Firstly despite the past year of searching Harry had yet to be found. Not a trace had been spotted since his disappearance now over a year ago. However, despite his ongoing absence he was still very much alive. A small gyroscope that had been linked to the boy's magic continued to turn and as long as it did the boy was alive. Secondly were the monitors on the blood wards on Privet Drive. They were beginning to fail. If Harry didn't return there in the next month all the protection would be rendered null. If he was honest with himself Albus knew that sending Harry to live with his muggle relatives was not the healthiest of environments, he also knew that it was the safest and after the tragedy with Frank and Alice Longbottom he would take no chances with the boy's safety.

He needed to ask once more for the help of the Order. After the initial few months of the frantic search most of the order members had jobs and families that required long overdue attention and the search had stalled. Now with the impending failing of the wards on Harry's home it was imperative that they find him. They had about as much chance of that as the Holyhead Harpies had of accepting a two hundred kilogram chauvinist as their starting seeker.

Currently Harry was deep in the bush. He and his two brothers had a definite line on dinner. They could almost taste it, fresh caught rabbit was delicious and so easy. Prey were stupid. They wiggled just a little to get ready, one... two... and Agrippa jumped out from the right heading pell mell for the nest. Rabbits were dumb, not that dumb though and before Harry and his other brother Merlin could move the large brown cottontail was gone. This of course resulted in a three way Kneazle brawl that only ended when Father came to break it up. He had a deep disappointment, providing for the pride was serious business and they were still acting like kittens.

Luckily there were more chances in the area, now that they had moved back to the family farm in Ottery St. Catchpole. After three months of fruitless searching Dumbledore had finally acquiesced to Mrs. Figg and her Kneazle companions returning home, with the newest kitten of course. Thick forests and tall grasses still covered this little piece of Britain, a regular Kneazle heaven. Harry was having the time of his young life, learning to hunt from Mum and patrol their territory with Father and his older siblings. He even had a little time to go exploring. It was on one of these solo expeditions that he discovered a whole new world.

Harry had wandered a little outside the family's territory when he spotted and was spotted in return by a very large dog. While a Kneazle the size of Father would have no qualms with even a dog as large as this one, Harry was something else entirely... dinner. The dog hungrily moved towards our fearless hero, red eyes blazing, and mouth with a thousand sharp fangs glistening. Harry decided that discretion was the better part of valor and took off as fast as he could towards the nearest tree narrowly avoiding becoming an entree himself.

After sometime in the tree the large canine Kneazle eater had decided to try his luck elsewhere and wandered off, but Harry sat transfixed. He vaguely remember the houses on privet drive all those months ago, which appeared as though someone had sprinkled seeds and overnight a batch of particurally boring plants had taken root in the shapes of houses. He was intimately familiar with the Prewitt house, where Mrs. Figg and her brother Sebastian Prewitt lived. This though was like nothing he'd ever seen before. It was a large ramshackle house that seemed to be teaming with life and magic.

Sitting outside in the bushes on the other side of a nicely sized fence there was a small human creature. It had long flowing red fur and pale skin with freckles. Father had cautioned all his kittens on associating with humans freely, but Harry could sense an overwhelming sadness coming from the little one and decided to investigate. Sneaking closer he discovered that this human was definitely female and not without an unpleasant scent. She might not be so bad after all.

Hopping over the wall and landing silently mere inches away he finally decided to ask what was wrong. "Merow?" Harry inquired.

She shot up and looked over at him drying her eyes as she did so. "Oh... Hello, where did you come from?"

Harry rubbed his head against her hand relishing the small but strong fingers scratching his ears and back and... ohhhh yeah that spot right above his tail... yeah. His eyes slitted and a deep rumbling growl emanated from his chest. The female human child giggled slightly and Harry could feel her sadness giving way to amusement. He was glad to be useful.

"My name is Ginny, what's yours?" The red head inquired.

"Prrrt... Merowowrow!" Was Harry's instant response. He liked this Ginny, she kept scratching. Mrs. Figg always had so many demands for her attention, and Harry never got scratched like this.

"Hehe, I like you. Much more than my brothers, they're mean. They won't let me fly, say I'm too little." She pouted, and amended forcefully "Am not!"

Out in the sun underneath the tender ministrations of his own personal backscratcher Harry had finally found heaven, if he had a mind to think about such things. He spent hours there listening to her ramble about everything and nothing and occasionally wondered if his siblings listened to old Arabella the same way. Harry made it back to the Prewitt farm just in time for his evening bath and a stern admonishment from both parents. However, after explaining himself adequately they did grudgingly agree to his expanding horizons. After all it was well known that the large house across the fields were relations and that it had been decided some time ago that when their elderly caretakers did indeed pass to the happy hunting grounds the pride would relocate and adopt their new family blessing it with all the benefits and security the pride offered. No wizard would refuse, and Father was quite sure about that.

Days had run in a pattern after that. Most mornings Harry and his siblings would head out to catch breakfast and help their older siblings patrol the boarders of their not inconsiderable territory. In the afternoons he would return to the house on the edge of the wood, which Harry had learned was called the Burrow. Harry did think that was funny because from listening to Arabella he had learned that a burrow was supposed to be underground. Then he would while away the afternoon and early evening playing with his human, Ginny, and allowing her to pet him. They did most everything together and her family had even taken to leaving out bowls of water and small crunchy pellets that tasted almost like the back end of an old mole he once had. While the water was appreciated especially in the summer, they could keep their old mole pellets he would be dining on rabbit and vole thank you very much. Finally in the cool hours of the evening he would make the long trek home for his bath and curl up with the rest of the family under the abandoned corn crib. Life was good.

In the summers they would play outside Harry being conscious of his Kneazle duties saw to it that she was never bothered. His Ginny's siblings had dubbed him the 'devil cat' after one particularly cruel prank left her crying for the better part of an hour. Feeling the distress of his human, Harry had quickly launched his now slightly larger than kitten form at the offending boys and done considerable damage to all offenders before stalking off to sooth her ruffled fur and mend broken feelings. Because NO ONE makes Harry's human cry.

During the winters Ginny had even taken to leaving her window just a little cracked so Harry could sneak in and spend a warm and comfortable day out of the cold. As one of her favorite past times had become reading, and though Molly Weasley was unaware of her daughter's feline companion Ginny had taken to reading out loud to him over with Harry always looking over her shoulder. Harry's interest became peaked once he discovered that indeed the funny symbols on the paper translated into verbal sounds of humans and perhaps with this startling bit of knowledge he could finally discover which particular tin Arabella kept the treats in.

After a time Harry was introduced to all manner of scholastic disciplines that a young witch or Kneazle might find useful. Unfortunately with the exception of now being able to correctly discern the tins in which the treats came in, his siblings found his new academic interests thoroughly boring. Even his parents merely nuzzled him on the head and gave him a bath. Which is the Kneazle equivalent of 'that's nice dear'.

Harry was as happy and contented as any Kneazle had a right to be. He had a loving family, a human of his own, and the ability to raid the treats tin without fear of discovery. Unfortunately as his next birthday passed unremarked (as Kneazles simply don't notice such things) his whole world was about to be very thoroughly perforated, steam cleaned, inspected and turned completely upside down.

_AN: All right that concludes chapter 2. I am currently looking for a good beta and/or brit picker. I am trying to keep dialogue in the same context as Rowling's original works, but I'm American and it doesn't come naturally. I hope this keeps the interest. A couple more chapters and then on to Hogwarts! I'm still working on my montage scenes. How'd I do? Here introduces Ginny. Harry's human. A big thanks to everyone who reviewed. As this is my first fiction it is a unique feeling. TTFN!_


	3. To Kneazle or not to Kneazle?

CH 3. Kneazle or not to Kneazle?

Another school year had come and gone and despite claims to the contrary deputy headmistress Minerva McGonagall was sure to be busy through the entire summer. She had recently finished grading the end of term exams and was now quite busy with the preparation for the upcoming year. So much to do, prefects to choose, books to assign and recommendation letters to write. On this particular first of August however professor McGonagall was sifting through the letters to be sent out to first year students. Although all letters were generated by Hogwart's magic, the old girl was known to make a few mistakes.

Ronald Weasley, she noted with a slight smile would be attending this year. She could only hope that he took after his brother Percy and not the twins. She continued absentmindedly leafing through the stacks of letters contemplating how best to assist her newest Quidditch captain Oliver Wood. When she ran across a letter that shook her not only out of her idle musings, but demanded the immediate attention of the headmaster himself.

"Albus!" Professor McGonagall said striding briskly into the room.

"Ah Minerva. I trust you are well. No complications with end of terms I hope?" The headmaster replied lazily.

"No, thank you Albus. However I do believe that Hogwarts has made a mistake in one of our first year letters."

"Hmm... Another, that makes the third in almost a hundred years. She must be getting tired of writing them each year I suppose. To whom is it addressed?" Dumbledor gently queried.

With a trembling hand Minerva McGonagall passed a standard postage sized letter that had written in the familiar scrawl and green ink

To Mr. Harry Potter

Under the Corn Crib

1321 Hawthorne Drive

Ottery St. Catchpole

"It must be a mistake Albus! We scoured the countryside for months after he disappeared. He shouldn't even be alive. At least he should be out of the country!"

Shocked, it took every bit of the headmaster's considerable willpower to maintain his calm facade. "Calm yourself Minerva. It is my experience that very often things are found where we least expect them. At the very least we should investigate this fortunate turn of events before so blindly dismissing the possiblity. Although somewhat of an unorthodox location I don't believe we searched under any corn cribs."

"Do you want me to send Hagrid, Albus?" McGonagall queried.

"No, while I do trust the boy I suspect that this may require a slightly more delicate approach than he is used to. I will attend to it myself. Do tell me though; my old brain has seemed to cease working at the moment. Who lives at this address?"

Thinking for a moment McGonagall replied, "I do believe it is Sebastian Prewitt and his sister Arabella Figg, both staunch Order members. They live near Molly and Arthur's family."

"Ah yes, delightful. I'll floo there directly then." Dumbledore then picked up a pinch of green powder, threw it into the fire and was gone.

Stepping through to the other side Dumbledore saw Sebastian and his sister basking in companionable silence with a rather large number of their magical felines surrounding them. To a casual observer it would appear that either one had a fur coat that was improperly made as it hadn't stopped breathing yet. Both Kneazles and humans stood as rapidly as age allowed to investigate the sudden arrival.

"Ah Albus old boy, we weren't expecting you. Care for a spot of tea?"

The headmaster smiled genially but felt the urgency in his old bones. "Ah, no thank you Sebastian. I am here on a bit of business for both Hogwarts and the Order."

At the word 'Order' Sebastian's wand was out and long dormant wards and silencing charms were once again reactivated. The Kneazles began to rumble in quiet consternation both at the activation of the wards and the power radiating from the new arrival. Mum began to usher out her youngest kittens followed by all but Father and the a few of the oldest members. They would remain. A Kneazle never abandons ones staff, it is simply poor form.

Harry was almost out of the room when he heard his name mentioned. Well it sounded close anyway. Looking back over his shoulder he saw the surprise and shock of Arabella and her brother. Noting the urgent tone in his mother's voice he picked up one of his younger siblings by the scruff and hurried out to the corn crib. A few minutes later all ears were trained on the approaching footsteps, and noses were rapidly moving. There didn't seem to be any real danger except... "Accio Harry!" And with those words he felt himself flying, heedless of claws scrabbling at the earth, and landing into a pair of gentle but unfamiliar hands.

Looking at the midsized Kneazle in his grasp Dumbledore couldn't help but marvel at the similarities between the cat in his hands and the faint memories of the child he left in the basket on his relatives doorstep nearly ten years ago. The fur was black as the boy's hair had been and the white mark was far too suspicious to be a coincidence. The eyes though were an astonishing green the same green as... Lily Evans.

The implications were mind boggling. Although it would explain so much. The inability of either dark wizards or those of Dumbledore's order to locate the boy. The sudden disappearance linked so closely with the appearance of a strange kitten that Arabella had remarked on. While Albus Dumbledore was not a man frequently plagued by uncertainty, this was one of them. Before he could choose a course of action however the Kneazle under scrutiny seemed to have decided that he wanted down.

Harry lashed out at the old man holding him. Only two people were allowed that privilege, the pride's caretaker Arabella and his human Ginny. Claws connected with the prune like nose and the offending grip was released dropping him unceremoniously to the ground. Quick as a flash he was moving towards the safety of the burrow and the protective arms of his human. She had strong magic too, and would certainly prevent any further assault upon both his body and wounded ego. Honestly being manhandled like a common house cat! The nerve of some people.

Moving swiftly and silently from years of practice Harry rapidly approached his second home and the security of the third floor bedroom where his Ginny slept. Scaling the tree just outside he calculated and jumped... THWACK! The resulting force of his head colliding with the closed window surprised him. The window was never closed, it often looked that way but with just a little push he could always get in.

Leaping to the paddock below he began prowling around the burrow looking for an entry point when he heard a loud crack and felt the associated surge of a powerful magical force. It took Harry less than a second to realize his pursuer had caught up to him. Harry ran to the front door and began scratching and mewling loudly hoping someone, anyone would let him in. He gazed longingly at the doorknob and its intricacies. That could let him in easily if only he had hands if only... The panic in his chest grew as he felt the two legged predator approach and with it a strange warm sensation he didn't remember ever feeling before.

The world seemed to shrink along with a brief constricting feeling accompanied by a loud 'RIIIIIPPP'. Feeling both dazed and confused Harry looked down and it seemed Isis, patron saint to all Kneazles, was blessing him today. He had hands. Quickly grasping the dark magic of the door knob and complexity of newly acquired opposable thumbs Harry ripped the door open and sprinted towards his human's room.

Well tried to sprint anyway. Along with his new thumbs and hands Harry had also gained arms and a posture that required mostly bipedal locomotion. Thus his years of muscle memory of four legs merely sent him sprawling to the floor. But with the drive born from utter desperation he quickly righted himself and sped towards Ginny's room once more ignoring the loud screams and shouts coming from behind him. The now human, and quite naked, Harry Potter indeed reached outside of his destination but with such heed he failed to feel the powerful magic of a very concerned Weasley patriarch behind him.

"Stupefy!" He heard someone shout, and then everything went black.

oOo

Ughhhh... Harry's head was swimming in a very unpleasant manner. Opening his eyes as much as his throbbing head would allow Harry saw the cracked plaster ceiling and light blue curtains of what he thought was the burrow. If he focused he could make out voices that sounded like they were from down the hall, with the door closed.

"Albus, where..."

"I don't know my dear lady."

"But, are you sure?"

"As reasonably as I can..."

"Boys have you..."

"NO!"

Harry didn't like the sensation at all. Everything felt like he had a giant blanket draped over him. He couldn't hear as well, scents that had assaulted him when he made his mad dash for saftety were now muted and barely noticeable. If this was how human's live the now boy prayed with all his might that Isis could change him back and soon... He didn't to have to try to sleep in the corn crib like this, he might squash the kittens.

'Hands certainly aren't all they're cracked up to be', Harry thought. They were certainly useful for working the black magic of doorknobs but bloody useless in a fight and rubbish for catching dinner. The scarred youth sat and then stood up slowly despite his aching muscles and felt a blanket slide gracefully off of him. He gave an involuntary shudder. Despite the August heat he simply wasn't used to walking around without a fur coat. Looking down Harry marveled at the differences in anatomy. Two legs! and so little hair. No wonder they always have to put on clothes. Ruddy awful things they are.

Four years ago Ginny had decided that Harry should be involved with dress up and had forced him into a series of outfits despite his protests. He just couldn't say no when she started to cry. After that Harry realized why so many people go around angry all the time. With the amounts of clothes some put on its a wonder anyone is ever happy.

Harry was abruptly startled out of his musings and the test movements of his new body by a loud gasp. Having been standing on the back of the couch on one leg Harry was somewhat surprised which directly led to him falling unceremoniously to the ground. Discovery 2: However true as a Kneazle Harry as a human was neither graceful nor was guaranteed to land on his feet.

"Ah Mr. Potter, I trust you are feeling better then?" Asked the old wizard who had so rudely picked him up previously.

Harry nodded. He was used to verbal communication from being with Ginny, but it still amazed him that humans ever got anything done. They spent so much time talking. Kneazles could have a whole conversation in just a few seconds from the empathic exhcange of complex feelings.

"If you are going to be with us now, it would do for you to begin verbalizing," Dumbledore suddenly seemed to notice the boy's state of undress, "And wearing something more becoming. Molly, would you be so kind as to perhaps loan this dear boy something he can be seen in outside this house."

"Of course Albus, I think some of Ron's things might fit him." With that Ginny's mother bustled off to fulfill her matronly duties while chasing her children out from their hiding positions. "This is no sight for a lady!" Harry could hear the woman exclaim. He thought it was likely at Ginny, since her mother fretted the most about her only daughter. Not that she needed to Harry amended. Nearly anywhere Ginny was, Harry was nearby and as he said many times, NO ONE hurts his human.

"Now my boy, perhaps you like to take a seat on the couch?" Then Dumbledore waved his wand and conjured a large purple comforter that draped over Harry's shoulders. Harry wrapped it around himself protectively to keep out the chill and then lay down on his stomach.

"Ah perhaps," Ginny's father began.

"Arthur, your family has had quite a shock today and so I suspect has young Harry here. Perhaps you'd best check on Molly and the assorted little Weasleys? Make sure they're all doing well." Dumbledore interrupted.

"Oh, quite right. Be back in a few then." With that the redheaded Weasley patriarch headed up the stairs.

"Now Harry," Dumbledore began "Am I right in guessing you've been living under the corn crib behind Mrs. Figg's house?"

Harry nodded his head. "You'll have to do better son, I am completely confident you can speak.

The thought had not yet occurred to him. He, Harry, could actually communicate with people. It would be interesting to say the least. He certainly knew all the words from the hours he spent with Ginny and sometimes her brothers, but no matter how hard he tried before he could only get a rousing meow.

"Y... Y... Yes. Not... Missuss... Figgggg. Are..ah..bell...ah." Harry croaked out.

Dumbledore was shocked. The boy not only seemed to understand English but could speak it with in a few minutes of being human. No one to his knowledge had ever studied the effects of living long term as an Animagus. Most wizards use it only as a short term resource. Certainly never with one so young, but if what Dumbledore thought was true then this might be the first and possibly only case in existence. A child transformed by accidental magic and living long enough in that form to seemingly forget that he was ever human.

"Harry, how long have you been a cat?"

Harry was taken aback. How long had this old molester of Kneazles been a human? Dumb questions deserve straight direct answers. Then they'll leave you alone to go nap in a sunbeam. "How long?" His voice was steadier and less raspy with each syllable. "I am not a cat..." Harry practically spat the word "I am a Kneazle. Far more refined than your average housecat. I've always been one. Isis simply granted me a boon so I may grace your presence." With that cleared up, it was time for a bath.

Dumbledore watched and listened as Harry told him that he felt he was indeed a magical house cat. From the small probes of legilimancy Harry at least felt it was true. If to confirm it, he then watched as the recently transformed boy began an attempt at a bath in typical house cat fashion. He tried not to laugh when the boy rolled off the couch. "Harry, I do believe we have some things to talk about. Perhaps we can go to Mrs., I mean Arabella's house."

From his sprawled position on the floor Harry considered it for a moment before agreeing. Perhaps Mother and Father could ask Isis to turn him back to normal. In the meantime he would go with this strange man... provided he wasn't picked up again.

oOo

Two weeks later and Harry was still in hell. He was close to being able to transform, but as the Kneazle saying goes 'close only counts when spraying a tree'. He found his relationship with his parents strained. Neither one could understand what happened to their kitten. Harry tried to tell them about Isis and see if they could help, but he found communication difficult and could only talk in the most general of ways. To top it off the crackpot had tried to convince Harry that he was in fact a human with a very rare ability, as though Isis had nothing to do with it. May she strike him down for his blasphemy.

Harry would surely remember something as monumental as being human once, and was about to discard the whole idea except for his dreams. Harry had dreamed for a very long time about a place with no forests and nothing but open lawns and houses with small gardens. Finally breaking down he went and asked Arabella about them and she told him the story of her time in Little Whinging and how she came to find him both as a very young boy and as a kitten.

Now Harry was conflicted. He didn't think he was human nor did he want to be. The free and easy life of a Kneazle was one he relished, and he did not at all want to have anything to do with this 'Hogwarts' place the crackpot mentioned. Two small facts changed his mind. Firstly, Dumbledore had let slip the fact that there was a forest near the castle which peaked Harry's curiosity. Secondly he found that his Ginny would be attending next year. He had to discuss it with the family, but he felt a certain obligation to make sure his human was protected from threats and that perhaps he should go to scout in advance and make sure he knows where the danger is and the best way to kill it. Just like Father and Harry and his other siblings do for the kittens and Mum when they patrol the forest.

While he could only really have the conversation he wanted once he became a Kneazle again, Harry did discover there was plenty to keep him occupied even when on two legs. Writing and speaking were first and foremost. Arabella, as he had flatly refused to call her Mrs. Figg, was shocked that he could read and even do somewhat complex arithmetic. Harry seemed to have all the requisite knowledge to be successful in his new endeavors except for the ability to write, which she was now remedying.

Arabella and her brother were puzzled over the enigma of the boy that called their house home. By now they were getting over the shock of having Harry Potter in their house for years without even knowing. The old woman had taken to ensuring the boy had everything she could prepare him with including some basic social understanding. She had spent several days trying to explain to him why he couldn't simply strip naked and run through the neighborhood. That was after several alarming floo and phone calls from the neighbors. Lord above did the wild child (as the neighbors apart from her niece and her family had taken to calling him) hate anything human. He was always dirty and had taken to trying to sleep in trees, he couldn't sit still and was reluctant to sit at all on his bum. Clothes and most food he detested, although he reluctantly began eating with her and her brother after eating a raw rabbit he somehow caught made him sick for two days. The only thing he didn't seem to immediately detest about being human was fighting with some of the local boys in town, and what was worse he was good at it!

However they did discover that Harry was quite literate and the only reason he couldn't write before was due to a profound lack of thumbs. He was also even interested in the piano but was a little put out when Sebastian told him that he was just too big to sit on their laps anymore. In the next few days they were going to have to take him on a harrowing experience... Shopping. Before that though she needed to have a conversation with him about not peeing on things to mark his territory... again.

_AN: Hope you like it. Please review and let me know what you think. This isn't going to be one of those chicken poo stories where I hold chapters hostage for reviews, but I hope you will anyway. This story seems to be fairly popular for its being so new. Thanks to everyone who has tagged it so far. Means a lot to me. If any one sees glaring errors in the spelling of spells or names or such, please let me know!_

_I hope to have year one done sometime in February. When that happens would you as a reader prefer a mass update to the completed year end and a big break as I prepare the next few chapters of year two, or a more regular update schedule with one chapter at a time?_


	4. Diagon Alley and the Hogwarts Express

Ch4. Diagon Alley and the Hogwarts Express.

No, officially now Harry was in hell. Not only was he stuck as a damnable two legged creature for the moment, but now he had been taken to a place called Diagon Alley with a monster of a man. Well not monster in the traditional sense, this particular man was just very large. Harry was sure his mate must be well pleased with him. The man's name was Hagrid and Harry had liked him immediately. He smelled of the forest. Wood smoke and deer blood accented his particular scent. The faint emotional vibrations Harry could still feel gave him the impression that Hagrid _wanted_ to like Harry, but was a little disconcerted with the sniffing and sizing up of a new guest/potential threat.

On the bright side however Harry finally managed to transform back into a Kneazle and then back into a boy again. He couldn't do it instantly, but just the change is something, praise Isis. He'd talked to Sebastian about it at great length and he was as surprised as Harry to learn the boy had already learned to change. The old Prewitt had told him it took most people years to learn the change. After more discussion and a brief consultation with Dumbledore they had pinned it on something like muscle memory. Of course this was only a guess, but something none the less. At an early age Harry had trained his magical core to adapt to the prolonged Kneazleness that he was. Again, Sebastian assured him this was only a guess but Harry was going to go with it.

Mum and Father were so proud, and all his siblings were curious. To have a _Human_ in the family imagine! Nothing like that had ever happened before and Mum especially was proud as punch. Although they were a little curious about the various people coming and going they accepted Harry's idea that all were relatively harmless. The news about Harry attending Hogwarts was met with some dismay, but in the end Father felt it would be good for Harry to explore.

In a way though Harry was glad that he could be human here. The idea of all these competing odors, smells and so much movement impacting his Kneazle brain would just be too much. After transforming back and forth the difference between the senses was palpable. It was nice to have them dimmed a bit with all these distractions. He did wish people would stop staring at him though. Everywhere they went if Hagrid happened to mention Harry's name people would stop and stare, or try to shake his hand. That lasted until Harry couldn't take the contact anymore. Really why did humans always insist on rushing right into things so blindly? Hadn't anyone ever watched a proper Kneazle greeting? They would circle and observe getting closer each time and then finally, gently touch noses to exchange scents. None of this sudden movement and hullabaloo.

"Hagrid, why do people keep staring at me?"

"Yeh mean apart from the fac' that yeh just punched Ludo Bagman in the nose?" Hagrid chuckled.

"He surprised me, shouldn't poke a sleeping Kneazle." Harry grumped.

"Eh... Don't ya mean never poke a sleepin' dragon?"

"No, dragons may breath fire and try to eat you, but they don't run up your led and dig claws into your bollocks." Harry smiled, taking fiendish delight at Hagrid's sudden fit of discomfort. "Really though, why is everyone staring at me?"

"Well because yer Harry Potter!" Hagrid exclaimed as though this solved everything.

"Don't follow you."

"You defeated you-know-who... A little baby defeated the greatest evil wizard know and then yeh disappeared for nine years Harry! Blimey, who wouldn't want to shake yer hand?"

"Ummm... Wait, I'm Harry Potter?" Harry's eyebrows creased. He'd read that story hundreds of times with Ginny growing up. He'd even been part of a wedding once when she was seven where she married Harry. While Harry did recognize that he had the same name as this mystical figure, he certainly couldn't see himself doing that.

"Who did yeh think yeh were Harry? Agusta Longbottom?"

"Well no, but I didn't think I was _that_ Harry Potter. I figured I was just named for him." It seemed logical enough. After all Arabella had always called him Harry even before he transformed to a human.

"No 'arry, you are THE Harry Potter. Man and mystical legend and all that." Hagrid smiled happy to be able to tease the young boy.

"Wait, so I defeated a dark wizard. Who was he again?"

"You-know-who Harry."

"No, I don't. I've heard of you-know-who, but I've never actually figured out who that was. Seems awfully silly to call him that, especially if not everyone knows who he is."

"Harry, I don't think this is the place ta be talkin' about this. Out in the street an' all. Maybe we should go inside firs' yeah?" With that they headed into a large ornate building.

Luckily for Hagrid Harry's curiosity was peaked throughout the day by all the different places they went and he forgot all about you-may-or-may-not-know-who. First was Gringotts bank, run by goblins and Harry hated it. Not because of any particular feelings of Kneazles towards goblins, but because Harry hated the feeling of being trapped below ground. Arabella had explained the concept of money to Harry before he left and he was very glad at this point that he paid attention during Ginny's arithmetic lessons. Next they had visited Flourish and Bott's book store and then on to Madam Malkin's for more ughhh... Clothes and finally onto lunch at Eyelops Owl Emporium. At least Harry assumed it would be lunch especially when Hagrid offered to buy him one as a birthday present, but the large man seemed slightly put off when Harry asked if he could just have part of the bird as he wasn't feeling terribly peckish right then but a good wing and some breast meat would do nicely. The clerk asked them to leave when Harry inquired if cooking was a requirement prior to purchase.

In the end Hagrid settled for buying Harry a large tin of cat treats. Hagrid thought they'd be good for all the Kneazles he'd seen running about on the farm, but for Harry it was his secret stash. If he had any doubts about the larger man before none remained. Finally onto the last stop of the day Olivander's Wands.

Harry and Hagrid entered the dusty little shop whose magic made the hairs on Harry's neck stand straight up in alarm. They were immediately met with an old man who's face didn't do his years justice. "Ah Mr. Harry Potter, I wondered if we'd be seeing you." It wasn't phrased as a question. "It seems like just yesterday that your parents were in here buying their wands."

"Mr. Ollivander, my parents don't use wands." Harry said sharply. He guessed it would be best to clear this up right now. He was the only human in the family tree and... oh right, he was adopted. Harry shook himself mentally remembering Dumbledore's stern warnings. 'We don't want to hurt you Harry, but it is imperative you not tell anyone about your transformation. You are just Harry Potter boy-who-lived and you grew up in an orphanage.' Harry didn't know how he was going to cover this one up when both Hagrid and the funny looking wand maker gave him odd looks. "Well because they're dead and all that." Harry finished lamely.

"Of course Mr. Potter, now for you" Ollivander gave him a piercing look. "We use very powerful magical cores, unicorn hair, phoenix feather and dragon heartstring. Each with their own distinct properties. You're right handed?"

Harry nodded.

"Excellent try this Beachwood and dragon heartstring nine inches, just give it a wave." Harry waved it about. He could _feel _the magic in the stick he was holding, but it was like a door was between them. Olivander grabbed it out of his hand just as quickly.

"Phoenix feather and maple quite whippy try... no no no that won't do" Harry again had the wand plucked out of his grasp. The more wands he tried the more he could feel there was one for him in this shop, he just hadn't found it yet. "Hmm... a tricky customer, no matter. Yes why not, try this Mr. Potter Holly and Phoenix feather, eleven inches nice and supple." Harry could feet the magic in the wand. It was asking to be let out, and it would be most powerful but he was not that wizard. He waved it about and again it was plucked from his grasp. "Hmm... stay right here Mr. Potter I'll be back in a moment. Just need to see what's in the back of the store."

With that parting phrase the old man disappeared into the bowels of the store leaving Harry and Hagrid alone once more. With Hagrid taking the only chair in the shop Harry wandered the small confines trying to pin down the feeling in his gut. It was one of both anticipation and dread. There was powerful magic here calling to him the closer he got to the window. Looking down he saw a single very old looking wand sitting on a purple cushion as though to advertise the wares of this particular shop. Harry was fascinated by it more that anything else in here. It looked so old, yet as though it was never used. Although his parents constantly warned him that curiosity killed the kitten, Harry couldn't help but touch it.

Picking up the wand he felt the door to his power open like no other wand before. He was staring so intently at it that he missed the small shop owners impatient return until he said something. "Ah yes, you've discovered the wand in the pillow. Like the sword in the stone, except in three hundred years no one has ever been able to use it."

"Wha's so special 'bout it?" Hagrid asked. Peering intently at both the wand and Harry.

"It's doesn't work." Ollivander chuckled softly. "Now Mr. Potter how about this one, dragon heartstring and ebony six inches. Rigid with power."

Harry heard the old man, but didn't care. He was enthralled with the one in his hand. He felt the magic surge and turning to the front of the shop swung his arm down hard. A shower of red and gold sparks filled the shop like a fourty nine and a half pound filibuster firework.

When the shower cleared Mr. Ollivander was scanning him with piercing eyes. "Mr. Potter, it seems indeed that the wand has chosen the wizard. I remember every wand I've ever sold Mr. Potter and I will tell you that we've never sold another like it."

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Nine inches, muscle wood, unicorn hair and sphinx tooth, powdered of course. Powerful, ever so powerful it is. I've never tried working with sphinx before, nor had I ever tried a twin core of magical substances. Be very careful with that wand Mr. Potter it has never worked for any other wizard and may never work for another again." With that Harry paid for his wand and left slightly more shaken than he entered.

"C'mon Harry, lets get you somethin' fun t'look at afore we head home yeah?" Harry nodded dumbly still puzzling over the old wand maker and didn't even notice the direction they had taken until they were in Quality Quidditch Supplies. "Here ya go Harry. Now mind, don't buy anythin' but I thought ya migh like ta look a bit before we go. Never can be too up ta date with Quidditch. I'll be back in ah bit. Old Ollivander always makes me feel a bit queasy after visitin'."

With that Hagrid left Harry to his own devices. Harry began wandering around the store only mildly curious really. He knew all about Quidditch, at least the way the Weasly's play anyway. He had watched Ginny's brothers fly around in the paddock behind the house many days and at night he had watched Ginny do the same when all of her family was asleep.

However, Harry never really had a great deal of appreciation for flying until he came to one broom in particular. The crowd around it had thinned somewhat and he found himself next to a blond boy his age that reminded Harry rather unpleasantly of a small carnivorous rodent. The boy looked at him a moment and nodded before speaking "Isn't it brilliant. Best broom on the market today. Of course first years aren't allowed to have brooms. You are going to Hogwarts aren't you?" The boy said nodding at some of the things Harry was carrying.

"Yes," Harry replied feeling distinctly uneasy about this particular boy. His body language was all wrong and the feeling Harry got from him took a great deal of self restraint to remember that this wan't home and the boy didn't deserve a thrashing. Harry vowed to leave as soon as Hagrid arrived.

"Father's off getting my books and Mother's off looking at robes for me. When they get back I think I'm going to bully them into buying this one for me. I'll smuggle it in somehow. Father said it'll be a crime if I'm not picked for the house Quidditch team. Do you play quidditch?"

"No" Harry was really beginning to dislike this boy. Yammering on with no thoughts. That would get you killed in the field.

"I do, I think I'm going to try out as soon as I get there. It'll be difficult though, being that the Slytherin team has won the cup the past eight years. They're the best house to play for. I'm sure I'll be there, all my family's been. Do you know what house you'll be in?"

"No, I don't really know all that much about it."

"Oh, well no one does really do they? But I suppose you'll find out when you get there. What houses were your parents in?"

"Uhhh... I don't really know."

The blond boy looked a little put off at this. "They were like us though weren't they?"

Harry's initial reaction was to laugh say that the parents that raised him could not be more dissimilar, but Dumbledore's warning came back and Harry reasoned that even if not human his parents were in fact magical... close enough "Yeah, I suppose so. They never talk about it much."

At that moment Harry was saved from further conversation by Hagrid poking his head in the shop and calling out. Harry hurried off without a backwards glance.

Finally as the sun was setting for the day Hagrid dropped Harry off at the farm. "Now Harry, here's yer ticket for the Hogwart's Express. First o' September. Kings Cross. All there. Mrs. Figg'll know how ta get yeh there. See ya soon Harry!"

oOo

Too soon it was September first and Harry found himself riding in Arabella's old Volvo with his school things packed and his can of cat treats safely hidden deep inside his trunk. The old woman kept throwing him worried glances and it was beginning to annoy him. Sure he hadn't been the best student, strictly speaking. Summer wasn't a time for sitting inside though! It was a time for running, exploring and playing.

He didn't want to antagonize his caretaker, Father had been very clear on that, so Harry studiously learned the skill of writing and proper decorum for a young wizard. Harry was upset that he was missing out on time with Ginny and their normal summer antics, but Dumbledore had also been very clear that he couldn't reveal himself even to her. Something to do with secrecy and laws, or some other typical human rubbish.

So he had seen her for only a few days in the past weeks since his discovery and it pained him. He was starting to get worried that her brothers were picking on her again without him there to protect her. Luckily they'd all be gone to Hogwarts where Harry could keep an eye on them.

Staring out the window of the car Harry began to get nervous again. This place was even busier than Diagon ally and there were no trees or grass to hide in. Harry hated the cramped feeling and so many people! WHUMP! The car jerked viscously and Arabella pulled off to the side. An old man got out and they began talking about 'accidents' and 'getting the bobbies'. "Harry dear, I have to wait here for the police to arrive and clear up this little accident. Why don't you take your trunk on ahead and get on the train. If I can catch up to you I will."

Harry got his trunk out of the boot of the car and placed it on a nearby trolley and quickly made his way over to platform 9 then on to platform 10. Dammit! The old woman forgot to tell him where platform 9 3/4 was... When his nose picked up a familiar scent on the breeze. Harry whirled around and spotted a whole family of his favorite redheads. They'd know how to get there! Ginny's brother Ron was going this year too, all he had to do was ask them.

"Erm... excuse me but," Harry began, not quite sure how to phrase his question.

"Oh my..." Molly Weasly exclaimed. Her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Standing in front of her still in some of Ron's old things was the boy Dumbledore had said was Harry Potter. He was also the boy who a month before had run through her house stark naked and attempted to forcefully enter her daughters room as though he knew where she was. She didn't much like that idea, but at the moment there was a lost boy in front of her with no family and her maternal instincts kicked in.

"You need to know how to get on the platform?" Harry nodded. "Where is Mrs. Figg, Dumbledore said she'd be bringing you?"

"Oh... she got in an auto accident. Has to wait for police."

"Well no matter, she knows how to pass the barrier. The wall between the platforms nine and ten isn't really there. Best take it at a run if you're nervous."

"Mum, isn't that the bloke who ran starkers through the sitting room?" Harry heard one of the twins ask.

"Fred shush! Now you boys be nice. I don't want to hear either one of you teasing him about it. That boy had a rough life so far and you don't need to be making it harder."

"Jeeesh mum. No need to go crackers. We're just seeing if he might be up for a bit of fun once we get there."

"BOYS!"

With that the twins and cheekily grinned and ran at the wall disappearing entirely. Ron soon followed at a slightly faster pace than was strictly necessary. Molly shook her head and noticed Harry still hadn't moved. "You better get a move on; don't want to miss the train on your first year!"

"Right, of course," Harry looked down at Ginny, "Coming Sparkplug?" With a brief smile he rushed off.

Both Weasly women were beyond shocked. The only person who called Ginny that was her father Arthur, it was his pet name he got from some piece of muggle rubbish he was always tinkering with. None of her brothers even referred to her like that, it was kind of a family secret. "Mum, who was that?"

"I believe that was Harry Potter darling." Ginny face turned red. She had a crush on the idea of Harry Potter since she knew what both things were. The idea of meeting her idol was just too much.

"Come on dear we don't want to miss your brothers."

Harry had found a compartment and stowed his trunk with the brief help of the twin Weaslys. Fred and George had asked his name and he instinctively replied only 'Harry'. It took him nearly twenty seconds to remember his last name was supposed to be Potter. When they heard this both boys asked to see his scar which Harry showed them and he still didn't really understand what the big deal was. Dumbledore had explained to Harry several times both before and after Hagrid what he had done, stopping some crazy bastard when he wasn't more than a kitten. He didn't even remember doing anything, so why did it matter? It seemed like his human parents, it still felt very _wrong_ to say that, did all the work. Ah well he supposed he might never have a good understanding.

Outside the train compartment he could hear the boys talking excitedly to their mother. "Mum! We met Harry Potter, the Harry Potter! Yeah, that bloke who stopped us on the platform and ran starkers through the sitting room! Same bloke!"

"Mum, can I go see him?" Ginny asked.

"No dear, you already did. The boy isn't some animal in a cage or a wild cat to be gawked at." Harry's smile turned into a full blown chuckle at that. If only they knew.

"But he seemed to know me! I want to ask him how!" She was on the verge of tears. Harry's heart went out to Ginny, and he wanted nothing better than to comfort her, but she only knew him as her Kneazle Harry, not as Harry Potter boy-who-did-something-he-can't-remember. Maybe one day they could change that, he really hoped so.

Before too long the train whistle blew, hurting Harry's ears, and another young boy with distinct red hair and freckles opened the door. "Ummm... are these seats taken?" He asked.

"No." Was Harry's curt reply.

The boy sat down. "Hi I'm Ron Weasly this is my rat Scabbers." He said and gestured to the sleeping rat in his lap. Harry hadn't ever met the rat before, but that was hardly surprising because prior to his transformation he would likely have tried to eat it. The rat felt a little off though. Maybe it was magical, who knew?

"Harry Potter."

"Really! I mean the real one?" Ron's eyes shone with delight. Meeting a real celebrity!

"No, we come in the bottom of treat tins now. I suspect most families will have one soon." Harry said. He and Ron hadn't gotten along all that well at the burrow and despite the difference in appearances (lack of fur, thumbs, four feet taller) Harry wasn't all that inclined to be welcoming to the boy now.

"Oh, I just meant do you have the scar and all that?" Ron murmerd. Harry forced his hair up to reveal the lightning bolt, and then sat back in silence. After five minutes the food trolley came by and Harry had bought some chocolate frogs and a few other 'delicacies'. He had seen Ron's corned beef sandwiches and really hoped he could convince the boy to trade with him and was about to ask when the train door was thrown open.

"They're saying that Harry Potter's in this compartment, is that you then?" Harry recognized the boy's magic immediately. It was the same vile stoat from Quality Qudditch Supplies. This time though he brought friends. Harry glanced at Ron and decided if the boy helped him they might be able to win a fight, but he wasn't going to start one unnecessarily.

"That's me." Harry responded. Every muscle in his frame was taut, ready to spring. The boy's body language read didn't read dangerous, but the two bruisers he had behind him did. This puppy in front of him wasn't something to worry about and if he could exert his dominance or convince the boy to leave there wouldn't need to be a problem.

"This is Crabbe and Goyle, and my name is Draco Malfoy." Harry heard Ron snort back a laugh.

"Think my name is funny do you? No need to ask who you are, all Weasly's have red hair freckles and more children than they can afford."

Ron's face went red and he quickly stood, but Malfoy paid no attention and turned back to Harry. "You want to be careful who you associate with. You'll soon find some wizarding families are much better than others. I can help you there." He stuck out his hand.

Harry wondered for just a moment what is was about hand shaking that humans found so incredible. It didn't tell you anything like a good sniff would, but Harry didn't want to get too close to the ferret in front of him. What the boy said made sense, it was just like in the Pride. Some Kneazles were better than others, more resourceful and more aggressive, but they worked together for the benefit of the whole Pride. This boy seemed out to establish himself as the alpha early. Harry didn't like that. Besides there was no way this little ferret would be any help to anyone if something serious happened.

Malfoy stood there with his hand out and a face turning rapidly pink. The Potter boy seemed lost in thought. He was just about to pull his hand back and say something when Potter spoke.

"No."

"Excuse me?" Draco asked incredulously. No one in their right mind turned down association with the Malfoy's.

"I said no. I don't think you can."

"I don't think you understand Potter," Why oh why do humans always require forceful explanations before they accept anything. Harry felt no need to lie. Duplicity was difficult for any Kneazle, it just didn't come naturally.

"Mr. Malfoy, I said no. The reasons are such: Your fur is well groomed and you look to be useless in a fight, I doubt you'd be much better with dinner and I don't enjoy duplicity from those I associate with." Harry stared with hardened eyes daring the other boy to make a move. He did. The pale boy opened his mouth and took a step inside the compartment. It was enough.

Faster than his opponent could comprehend Harry lunged forward and grabbed the ferret's neck and slammed his knee into the other boy's stomach driving his breath out.

"You are in my territory, leave now." Harry growled. He noticed the movement from his opponents two companions "Move further and I'll choke the life out of him." When he was sure they stopped Harry flung the now very pale boy out of the compartment and into his two larger companions.

Malfoy looked up with eyes that held pure loathing. "You'd better watch yourself Potter. Your parents didn't know what was good for them either. Don't want to meet the same sticky end do you?"

Before Harry could retort they were interrupted. "What's going on here? Move along you three, back to your compartment." Ron's older brother Percy came into view. "Not starting fights Ronald?" Ron shot his brother a look of deep loathing, Harry's view on that particular brother was not much better.

"No _Percival_, if you need to know we were just sitting here when those sods came in and started bothering us."

"Don't take that tone with me Ronald. As a prefect its my responsibility,"

"We know Percy. Your duty is done. Leave." Harry's icy tone shocked both Weasly's. Percy nodded stiffly and shut the door a little harder than absolutely necessary.

"Thanks mate. Don't want to be around him much though, I'll tell you." Ron sighed.

Harry decided right there that maybe he could like Ron if he didn't pick on Ginny quite so much, but Harry was going to need friends and who was he to turn Ron down?

"I suppose so. Friends?" Harry stuck out his hand.

"Uhhh... yeah I suppose so." Ron shook it tentatively.

The rest of the trip went uneventfully. A boy who introduced himself as Neville had lost his toad and both he and a bushy haired girl named Hermione Granger had come to their compartment looking for it. There continued to be a nagging sensation at the back of Harry's mind but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. They changed into their school robes and before he knew it they were at Hogwarts.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Harry waved at Hagrid. "All righ' there Harry? Good, now no more n' four to a boat."

Harry froze. Water? They'd have to cross water? He _hated_ water with a firey passion few could match. As he looked down though he realized that likely he wouldn't have to swim (his mother insisted on teaching all her kittens how and it was one of the worst weeks of his life). He gingerly got in with Ron, Neville and Hermione and with a wave of his pink umbrella Hagrid set all the boats magically in motion.

Before him loomed the impressive bulwarks of Hogwarts. Harry was indifferent. Houses were all the same, just bigger. No, what excited him was the expanse of forest he could see all around the edge of the lake. The possibilities here were endless.

"Is this yer toad?" Hagrid boomed.

"Trevor!" Neville exclaimed.

After passing the warty animal back Hagrid led them up to two very large doors and knocked three times.

_AN: A big thank you to everyone who reviewed so far. This story has generated what I deem to be considerable interest with only three chapters and less than 10k words. Please keep the reviews coming as that is the only way I know what y'all like! Again credit for this concept goes to Wsbenge and Natural Animagus. Let me know how I did with Hagrid speak. I tried to keep him in character, but that can be difficult sometimes. TTFN- Manatoc Fox_


	5. The First Time

Ch5 The first time

The doors swung open revealing a tall black haired witch in emerald green robes that radiated a sense of power and command. A bit like Mum in that respect. Harry felt something else... deeper, and found himself feeling a surprising sense of kinship with the old woman.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. In a few minutes you will be sorted into your houses." Harry listened attentively while she explained the concept of the houses and the idea of house points, the house cup and other daily necessities. Harry felt a sudden jolt of fear as she left. He had guessed there might be some kind of a test, after all only the strongest survive so he wasn't worried about that. Harry realized for the first time that he would have to be human and very convincingly so. Dumbledore made it quite clear that while he attended school at Hogwarts he couldn't reveal his adopted family or proud Kneazle heritage. No, Harry Potter, Kneazle extraordinaire would have to be human enough to convince and entire school full of people. He was sooooooo screwed!

A few minutes later Harry felt a sudden sensation of cold as twenty or so ghosts poured through the wall and over their heads. They were muttering something about 'Peeves' and after salutations to all the awaiting sortees they carried on as McGonagall entered in the room and motioned for them to follow. The line stopped in a hall that took Harry's breath away. Hundreds of students were sitting at tables in a hall that was bigger than anything he'd ever seen before, and at the far end of the room sat a large pointed hat that began to sing.

"All we have to do is try on a hat?" Ron asked Harry incredulously. "I'm going to kill Fred and George, they were going on about wrestling a troll!"

"That does seem preferable." Harry agreed.

The first girl went forward and was quickly declared a Hufflepuff along with the next one. Harry's short attention span began to wander without something to occupy his mind and he began to look around the room noting the various banners and floating candlesticks. There were four banners, likely connected with each of the houses. A green and silver snake, Harry hated snakes, really really hated snakes. A bird in silver and blue. That wouldn't be so bad Harry supposed. Birds were tasty. A badger in yellow and black. No badgers hopefully, Harry didn't like their underground nature. Then Harry saw it a huge gold and scarlet lion hanging over the, "GRYFFINDOR!" the sorting hat exclaimed as Lavender Brown went and sat at the table underneath the magnificent lion.

Harry knew that was his house. What better place to be than the cat house? Harry, like all Kneazles, knew he was really a lion waiting for his growth spurt. Soon it would be apparent. He noticed the weasel being placed in Slytherin alongside his two guard dogs and firmly noted that Slytherin was one place he didn't want to be, snakes notwithstanding.

"Harry Potter!" Harry was jerked back to reality, and quickly hurried to the front of the hall amongst none too quiet whispers. Harry let the blackness of the sorting hat obscure his vision and heard a loud voice in his ear.

"Hmmm... Interesting, interesting. I've not had one like you before Mr. Potter. Plenty of courage, and not a bad mind either. Loyalty in spades. Although I think you're taking the animal representatives a bit too seriously. No the Hufflepuffs don't live in burrows on the grounds, as interesting as that might be. Not a Ravenclaw I don't think. Definitely not a Slytherin either." Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn't have to be in the house of snakes. "Like I said I think you're taking the banners a bit too seriously, but that really only leaves Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Which begs the age old question, is dying to protect someone you love courage or loyalty?"

'Courage.' Harry thought.

"Why might that be Mr. Potter?"

'It takes courage to believe your sacrifice wasn't in vain. Loyalty alone cannot protect those we love.' Harry's mind filled with the thoughts of his adopted family and Father risking his life to protect each one of his kittens.

"If that's your choice I can't see a better place for a cat than in..."

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted and the Gryffindor table erupted with cheers. Chants of 'We got Potter!' could be heard up and down the table. Harry went and sat next to a very astounded Hermione Granger and gave her a weak smile. All this attention was kind of draining. Percy came and gave Harry a very formal handshake and a 'we hope you'll be a credit to this house Mr. Potter'. Percy was still a git.

Finally towards the end Ron was made Gryffindor and after a few odd words from the Headmaster the feast began. The conversation was happy as the older students caught up and the new ones were introduced. Fred and George kept giving Harry oddly mischievous looks and Percy was giving them a disapproving scowl. Ron talked about quidditch and Hermione was discussing lessons with Percy. Harry happily wasn't having to say much. This being human thing was easier than he thought.

Harry looked up and met the eyes of a particularly angry looking teacher at the front of the room and was treated to vicious pain in his scar.

"You all right mate?" Ron asked. Harry was clutching his head and muttering incoherent curses. The pain vanished as suddenly as it arrived. What continued to trouble Harry was the feeling he got from the strange man. His shoulders were tensed and eyes fixed. The man seemed to have a purpose and his stiff posture and downturned mouth told Harry all he needed to know. This man didn't like him at all. Not that it concerned Harry greatly. As long as the man didn't come here and try to take his dinner there wouldn't be an issue.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Who's the greasy bastard with the bird beak nose and all black robes?"

Hermione and Percy looked shocked at Harry's particular choice of words which contrasted sharply with the loud guffaws coming from Fred, George and their friends.

"He got that one right!"

"Harry!"

"_Mr. Potter_," Percy began in an icy tone.

"Lay off him Perce," George said.

"He's just the first" Continued Fred.

"To really say what we're all thinking." Their friend Lee Jordan concluded.

Percy looked dumbfounded at their cavalier attitude but Fred interrupted before he could say anything further. "That my dear Harry is Professor Snape. One of the **most** unpleasant teachers here at Hogwarts. He teaches potions, but everyone knows he's angling for the defense against dark arts slot. Positively mad about the dark arts he is. Best watch your tone about him, he looks for any excuse to hound a Gryff. Absolutely favors Slytherin he does."

"Gryff?" Harry asked.

"Ah, shorthand my dear boy." George said. Noting his large audience of attentive first years he decided that this needed to be shared. "Gryffs are Gryffindors, Birds are Ravenclaws, Snakes are the ever popular Slytherins and Huffies are Hufflepuffs! There you have it, everything you need to know about this grand castle in thirty seconds!"

"That's right," Fred continued

"Remember Dumbledore's mad," George alternated.

"Slytherins are right bastards,"

"Snape is a smarmy git"

"And stay away from Filch or his cat Mrs. Norris" They chorused together.

Their impromptu knowledge sharing session was finally interrupted with the beginning of the term announcements. The only two Harry cared about was the fact that one of the third floor corridors was out of bounds along with the forbidden forest. That was exactly where Harry was headed as soon as he found time.

That night Harry collapsed onto his bed exhausted but happy. All his dorm mates seemed relatively nice and he had already made one friend. Pretending to be human wasn't quite as hard as he had anticipated as long as he didn't say too much. Ron was easier than most because they had history, whether the red head realized it or not. The other boys he would have to deal with as things came up. Tomorrow classes began, and Harry was pleased to note he was actually excited.

oOo

Stares and whispers followed Harry wherever he went the next morning. People pointing, whispering, and staring made for a very tense morning. The only time Harry had been stared at like this before was when a particularly large dog fancied him for a particularly delicious dinner, and trying to shake the image of a horde of older students swooping down to eat him on his way between classes did nothing to help his concentration.

Harry's class load was very different than he thought initially. They had astronomy, which Harry liked only because it gave him a chance to see the castle after dark, in his natural environment. Herbology was fascinating, they were still dealing with relatively common plants but it was out of a classroom. Harry loved the feel of open wind on his face once more, and while it wasn't the forest back home being surrounded by a veritable jungle of plants gave Harry a feeling of peace and security he hadn't felt since arriving. He was a wonder at identifying them too, once he learned the names. Quite a few he and his siblings had run across during their time at the farm and despite his senses being pointedly dulled many smells were still strong enough for him to pick up and use.

The counterpoint was history of magic in which Harry thought jumping out the window might be preferable and heavily considered it, except that he had no real place to go once escaping. Vowing to perservere Harry put his head down and napped.

Thus Wednesday arrived and it was time for transfiguration. Harry was excited when he heard it was with Professor McGonagall, and remembered the strange feeling of kinship he felt with the old teacher at the sorting feast.

"You're mental mate." Ron grimaced. "McGonagall is the strictest, no nonsense teacher we've got and you're looking forward to it?"

Harry waved his hand distractedly. They were going to be late if they weren't careful. "Teaching is serious business. If she doesn't take it seriously kittens die. I'm sure everything we learn is important. Except maybe history of magic, I don't know how important that is."

Ron gave his friend a funny look. 'Kittens?' He must have misheard. Ron's attention was called suddenly when Harry yelled "Ron, the staircase is changing! Come on we can make it." Ron watched with wide eyed horror as his seemingly suicidal friend raced towards the rapidly retreating stone staircase and leaped after it! Ron could see he would have made it too, but it seemed like something was just a little off in his jump and instead of landing on the last step he sailed beautifully under it. Ron heard a sickening thump, a loud groan and a series of curse words that he'd learned from Bill last summer. A few new ones too.

"Bloody, bloody hell. Sweet sweet Isis. Ohhhhh... fuck me sideways. Sweet marinaded mouse balls. Damn... No ... Tail..."

Looking up from his prone position the next story down Harry saw Ron rushing to meet him on a newly appeared staircase.

"Harry what the hell were you thinking mate! Bloody hell. We've got to get you to the infirmary." Harry merely shook his head.

"Can't miss transfiguration. Lets go, gonna be late." So Ron dutifully helped his crazy friend off the floor and they hobbled slowly to transfiguration.

They entered the room and both boys spotted a orange tabby with funny markings around its eyes sitting on the teachers desk.

"Lucky mate, McGonagall's not even here yet!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry morosely shook his head as he eased into a desk. "She's right there Ron. The tabby," Harry added seeing Ron's confused expression.

As if to confirm his statement a suddenly very much larger and angry McGonagall appeared where the tabby was and stared both boys down.

"Mr. Potter well done on spotting the animagus transformation. Five points to Gryffindor and five points off for the pair of you being late. What happened to Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley? He does not seem to be in the best health."

"Well professor this crazy b-, err I mean he tried to catch a moving staircase to avoid being late." Ron replied quickly.

"Are you capable to perform magic Mr. Potter?"

Harry's concentration was a bit off which is the only explanation for his slip, "Yes cousin, thank you."

McGonagall stared intently at the-boy-who-obviously-had-a-concussion. "Perhaps Mr. Potter, but the proper form of address for all teachers at this school is Professor. Three points from Gryffindor."

Harry heard the shocked gasps from some of his fellow housemates, but couldn't bring himself to figure out why they cared all that much. His entire back hurt from the fall and it was going to take all his concentration just to focus on the lesson. They were turning matchsticks into needles. By the end of the first class only Hermione and Harry surprisingly enough had managed. With Hermione being only slightly faster. This earned Hermione a rare smile and Harry a very puzzled look.

Defense against the Dark arts was a joke that Harry longed to get through, taught by Professor Quirrel. Finally at breakfast Friday a school barn owl landed in front of Harry, but stayed several feet away. "Looks like she's got somethin' for ya mate!" Seamus Finnegan called.

After five minutes it was quite clear that the owl wasn't going to let Harry anywhere near her despite the note being for him. Hermione looked rather puzzled as well as Ron and several others. "Mate, the owl is for you, she won't let anyone else touch her." Ron said

"Ron, I know but I can't seem to convince her to let me have it."

"Just think happy thoughts." Ron said with a smile.

Harry wanted to bang his head against the table. The fact that he still wasn't feeling quite up to par from his fall is all that prevented him. Of course she wouldn't come near him, he felt like a cat still to her. He just had to explain the situation. Tricky, but not impossible. He'd never tried talking to an owl before, mainly he just wondered what they tasted like.

Harry felt down and pulled out a tiny piece of his inner Kneazle and radiated out his good intentions to the bird. It hopped a foot closer. Harry felt the birds concern and he gave it a few reassuring hoots. He had no idea what he said, but it seemed to work as the bird hesitantly stretched out her leg for him to take the letter. He did so gently and offered the bird a piece of bacon. With a few more reassuring hoots and a low trill the bird took the bacon gave a hoot of her own and took off slower than Harry would have guessed.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked.

"Hagrid, just wondering if I wanted to come visit during our free period on Friday. Want to come?"

"Yeah, I think so." Ron replied.

"Excellent what do we have next?"

"Double potions with the Snakes." Ron groaned.

"Ah well, we all must face big birds with teeth at some point." Harry said unworried. No sense in fretting over something he couldn't change. Maybe the greasy bastard wouldn't hate him after all. Harry wasn't holding his breath but...

"Wait what? I don't understand. Is that some kind of muggle saying or something?"

"Oh, it just means facing things that scare us. For me its big birds with teeth." Harry turned red at his slip up. Despite how hard he was trying seperating his human and Kneazle half was appearing impossible. Hopefully potions would go better.

oOo

Cats may have nine lives, but Harry thought it must be to make up for all his rotten luck. Even from the get go Snape seemed hell bent on making Harry's life miserable.

"Ah yes Harry Potter, our new _celebrity_..." Snape drawled. Luckily for Harry he was rather unphased.

Harry was mentally running through the lists of things teachers could do. Dock house points check, assign detentions check, refer him to the headmaster check. Nothing in there about beatings, starvation or sleep deprivation. Harry mentally patted himself on the back that he was too young for sex as that dropped his basic needs from three to two. No, Harry was thoroughly unconcerned about whatever grudge this man held against him. Grudges were silly and got in the way of napping.

Snape continued to drawl on, something about brewing fame, bottling glory and stoppering death. Who needed that, not like you can eat any of it. Now if there was a way to repel dogs and attract rabbits out of their holes that might be something.

"Potter" Snape said suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know professor."

"Tut tut clearly fame isn't everything." That was the first intelligent thing the man had said yet today. Perhaps the professor wasn't a total loss after all. "Let's try again Potter. Where would you look if I asked you to find me a Beozar?"

"Is that the stone thing you find in a goat?"

Snape tried to hide his small shock at his student coming close. "Where would you have found a Beozar Potter?" Snape spat.

"Killed a goat once. Goat was tasty, but the stone thing wasn't really edible. Thought I heard someone call it a Beozar. Said it was rare." Harry responded. Close enough to the truth so he wouldn't slip up Harry thought.

"Trying to be funny are you Potter? That's a point you've lost for Gryffindor. What's the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape asked again.

"The spelling." Harry replied. When in doubt go with the obvious response. Snape's eyes narrowed.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming eh Potter? Another two points for your cheek."

Things didn't improve after that. Harry worked with Ron on a potion to cure boils. Things were going well until Neville Longbottom somehow managed to melt through Seamus Finnegan's cauldron which caused the everyone to stand on the tables and caused Neville to go to the infirmary.

"Potter! Why didn't you tell him not to add the quills before taking the cauldron off the fire? Thought you'd look good if he got it wrong did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Harry thought about it for a second and realized that from what he understood not answering a question was rather rude. Despite Ron's warnings Harry piped up. "No sir. that conclusion is illogical. The whole suffers when one member suffers. Why would I want a member of my..." at this point Harry was trying desperately to remember another word that didn't directly relate to family.

"Potter!" Snape growled. "Another two points lost for talking out of turn. Now get busy and finish your potion."

The end of the lesson saw a very confused Harry. The teacher asked questions and didn't want answers? This boggled Harry's mind. Seeing Harry's face Ron put in helpfully "Don't worry mate, Snapes always taking loads of points off Fred and George. C'mon we're going to see Hagrid aren't we?"

Harry nodded his head fervently all thoughts of confusing teachers were pushed out as the freedom of nature beckoned.

_AN: Hey There. Here is the beginnings of Harry's life at Hogwarts. Some things will change and some will stay the same, overall though it's going to be a fun ride! On several technical notes 1: Most chapters will be this kind of format. I don't want to bore you with reciting page for page the book. 2: We're looking at 3.5-4k words per chapter for the most part. I am currently working on Chapter 9 and I anticipate book 1 being finished around chapter 11 or so. I hope this was worth the wait. I know since I have a smaller chapter size I should update more frequently, but there you have it. Finally a special thanks to all who took time to review and especially to Comet Moon for their independent contribution of ideas for the story plot. Thanks again and I hope you all take the time to review and let me know what you think! If you like it tell me, if you see something that can be improved, tell me! Only way this story gets better is with your help!_


	6. Free as Air

CH6 Free as Air

The sky was overcast, but not too chilly and a perfect temperature as Ron and Harry approached Hagrid's hut. Knocking loudly on the door they heard a loud barking and Hagrid's deep baritone coming from behind the hut. "Who is it? I'm 'round back if yeh need sommat!"

Around the back of the hut Harry came face to face with the largest dog that he'd ever seen. It took all of the boy's considerable courage to remain rooted to the spot and not take off running. Harry was forcefully reminded one of all his close calls with dogs that weren't even close to this size that still thought he looked remarkably appetizing.

"Don' worry 'bout Fang. He's as friendly as anythin'. Afraid of his own shadow he is..." As if to prove his point he gave Harry's hand a giant lick and then leaped on Ron with a friendly bark and accompanying tongue lashings.

The second thing Harry noticed was a bright gold foal and three brilliant white unicorns standing protectively close. Forgetting all about the dog, Harry stood next to Hagrid leaving Ron to his canine companion. "Unicorns they are." Hagrid observed. "Won't let nobody near enough to help 'em though."

"What's wrong with them?" Harry asked nervously.

"Nothin's wrong with the unicorns, but that new foal there won't seem to stand up. Don't look like nothin's wrong with it, but I can't get close enough to check."

"Why not?" Harry was sure he knew, but this was the first time he'd met unicorns. Always good to check.

"Don't like men they don't. The foal mightn't give me too much of a problem, they're a bit more trustin', but the adults won't have nothin' to do with us. Doubly true for the mares."

"If they don't like men, then why can we stand so close?" Ron interjected, as he continued wrestling with Fang.

"Well, they won' leave a foal no they won'. There migh' be plenny of predators round these parts that'd take to munching on a baby unicorn. I know for a fact the Acromantula in the forest find unicorn to be a rare treat. They're mighty cagy unicorns are, but they're not so tricky if they can't move."

Harry could feel the unicorn's distress, and felt a deep sympathy for the animal. Protecting ones young was always more difficult in an exposed area like the pumpkin patch. Harry began slowly walking forward, low and slow, keeping his eyes on the ground. This was the same way he approached Father when he was younger and had done something particularly stupid.

Harry could feel their distress and concentrated all the calm, serenity and peace he could muster and focused them. 'Please Isis let them hear me.' Harry hoped unicorns could sense emotion the same way Kneazles could.

"Harry! What're you doin'! That's the band stallion! You get any closer to his foal and he's liable to attack, peaceful and gentle or no they'll defend their foals!" Hagrid pleaded.

"Hagrid, hush!" Harry commanded. It felt odd to say that to Hagrid, but he needed total focus and calm if he wanted to help. Slowly he crept forward until he was mere centimetres away from the foal. Harry reached up and placed a comforting hand on the stallion's chest willing it to understand he just wanted to help. Then slowly he closed the gap and touched the golden foal.

It squealed at the unwanted contact, but to both Hagrid and Ron's surprise the closest mare nuzzled it in a show of support and then tapped Harry with her nose as if to say 'well, get on with it'. Harry's hands roamed softly over the shiny golden coat until he found the problem. A large thorn had been lodged on the inside of the leg. Apologizing for the hurt he knew he had to cause, Harry delicately removed the thorn and saw a small trickle of bright silvery blood darken the floor of the pumpkin patch. Trying think of a way to staunch the slow flow of blood, licking it not being a viable option in his current form, Harry decided to try something he'd seen Ginny's older brother Charlie do once when Ron fell off his broom.

Harry ripped the seam of his robe and wound it gently around the exposed wound just tightly enough to staunch the flow of blood. Making sure the knot wouldn't come off anytime soon, Harry raised his hands in the air and slowly backed away. He, Hagrid, and Ron watched amazed for several minutes as the foal was coaxed to stand and then led slowly off by both mares. The stallion stayed behind until mother, aunt and baby were safely in the forest. Then with a low bow and a loud whinny, he whirled and sped off after his family.

"Harry, tha' was the most foolish thing I have ever seen anyone do!" Hagrid exclaimed. "What we're ya thinkin'? You coulda been killed there. Even I don' get that close to an injured unicorn foal. Jus' won' do!"

"Hagrid, the foal needed help and Isis help me I was going to give it. They weren't going to hurt me. Certainly not now."

"Well that's true enough I suppose." Hagrid conceded. Then more cheerfully added "Well on th' bright side it ya might've made a friend. Could come in dead useful yer third year."

"What's third year?" Ron asked, finally having gotten over his shock.

"Care o' Magical Creatures. Always liked tha' class." Hagrid said dreamily. "Well anyway, appreciate yer helpin' with that bit o' trouble. Now how 'bout fer some tea?"

Harry loved the rustic feel of Hagrid's wooden hut with its animal skins and oversized blanket. It reminded him comfortably of a human version of the corn crib. Despite Harry's seeming way with unicorns, most of the conversation revolved around Ron's family. Harry dazed in and out of conversation, knowing almost all of what they were saying. Ginny had always talked about her older brothers, especially Charlie and Bill.

A recent copy of the _Daily Prophet_ was on the edge of Hagrid's bed and without thinking about it Harry began reading the front page article. "Hagrid, why is it such a big deal that someone broke into Gringotts? People go in and out all the time." Harry thought of mice. They were impossible to keep out and even humans were smarter than that.

"Well, it's supposed to be one o' the most protected places in all England. 'Cept Hogwarts of course."

"Wait, if someone broke into Gringotts, that'd have to be some really dark magic." Harry looked at Ron inquisitively. "Dad told me about it." Ron finished succinctly, and Harry didn't argue. One thing that he'd learned during his tenure with Ginny was that the Weasley patriarch was almost never wrong.

"Why'd someone want to break in anyway? It says the vault was empty," Ron pondered, reading over Harry's shoulder.

"Now don't you lot worry 'bout that. Dumbledore's got it all under control." Hagrid reassured them.

"Wait, Dumbledore? Is this something at Hogwarts?"

Hagrid's eyes went wide for a moment and then started muttering "Shouldn't ha' said tha'... Now looks like the sun's about to set. Better head back up to yer dormitories. Don' want yeh ta be gettin' detention. Maybe see yeh back here in a week or two. That's if ye want to. Jus' let me know afore hand so I can get the place straightened up."

With that both Ron and Harry were ushered out into the cooling air thinking heavily about what might have been moved from the mystery vault and doubting very much that Hagrid every really straightened up.

oOo

That night Harry was too excited to sleep. The weekend was upon him and after being that close to the forest for the first time since being here Harry _had_ to go exploring. He could feel the wind on his face and soil beneath his paws and he hadn't left his bed yet. Harry slid noiselessly out of his bed but cringed at the racket his clothes made as he walked. Stripping quickly out of them Harry put on a breech cloth that Arabella had made him in a bid to get him to wear _something_ this summer.

Harry slid down the stairs as silent as a ghost, provided that ghost wasn't Peeves. Slid open the portrait door and clambered out walking only a few feet away to avoid attracting the Fat Lady's attention. Harry concentrated on the feeling of the change. He still didn't know how he did it, only that it worked and thus far he hadn't been stuck as a human yet. After thirty minutes Harry could feel the electricity running down his spine that signalled the change and a few seconds later he had paws and fur again.

His senses were sharper, movement on four legs came more easily and he finally had his tail back! _No more missed jumps for this Kneazle_, Harry proudly thought. Within minutes a lone four legged figure could be spotted by the keenest of eyes streaking out the front doors of Hogwarts and towards the Forbidden Forest.

The thrill of the unknown drew him forward, that and an empty stomach. It had been a good few hours since dinner and he hungered for some home cooking. Rabbit would be nice. He'd take vole even old mole back, just please anything that wasn't cooked! Eating animals that were already dead just took all the fun out of mealtime.

As he passed the tree line the black Kneazle was very thankful to have his sight back. The thick branches overhead obscured the thin moonlight shining overhead and a new combination of sounds and odors put him on high alert. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts Harry felt alive. This was his home; here was where he knew he was safe. The undergrowth and branches concealed his form and Father's training would protect him better than any spell. Creeping deeper into the forest Harry's mouth turned up in a toothliscious grin. Tonight would be good.

The forest was HUGE! Harry had never gone this long before in total cover without crossing a road or retracing some of his steps. Harry had feasted on a large rat a few minutes prior and was feeling suitably sated for the evening when he heard a rustle in the forest behind him. Spinning sharply Harry's natural night sight was instantly ruined by the glowing form of two unicorns steadily approaching.

_'Be still little one' _ Harry heard the first one say.

_'Ferd, don't scare him. We won't hurt you Harry.' _The second one chimed in.

At this point Harry was growing concerned. Why couldn't he hear them before, and how did they know him now? He knew for a fact his scent was suitably different as a human, and why were they trying to find him anyway?

_'We came here to thank you. You saved one of our foals, not something to be taken lightly. We owe you a boon, and we always repay our debts. We know many things about you Harry Potter. The unicorn hair in your wand is a sign. Let the light guide you in your darkest hour.'_

Harry's hackles were up, while at the same time feeling a total inner peace. His two sides were warring and leaving him only to stare dumbly at the magnificent creatures. He really didn't think that helping to save the unicorn kitten was something to be rewarded, but who was he to refuse their offer. He would have to keep an eye on this herd in the future. It would help distract him from the separation of his family to have something to protect again.

'_Peace_.' Harry replied. '_I want to help_.'

'_Your help isn't needed little one_.' The stallion replied a little more forcefully than necessary.

'_It isn't your choice. If you owe me a boon then we are family. I will help. You are under my protection now_.' There, that was put just the way Father taught him.

A loud nicker that sounded suspiciously like a laugh came from both mare and stallion. '_Little friend, if that pleases you to think so then let it be. We will watch for you as well. There are much bigger threats than you in this forest_.'

_'I can handle myself' _Harry puffed himself up. He wasn't a kitten anymore.

_'We hope so little brother_.'

oOo

Harry was nervous as he, Ron and the other Gryffindors walked out for their first flying lessons. Harry noticed some people flying on brooms on the other side of the field. When he asked Ron about it all he said was Quidditch practice. Harry listened intently to the lecture Madam Hooch gave and was pleased to note his broom jumped directly up to his hand when called. Looking to his left Harry saw that Neville's merely rolled over. Harry gave him an encouraging smile and a pat on the shoulder and Neville's next attempt was somewhat more successful.

Harry was pleased to note that Neville's pained expression subsided and his death grip on his broom relaxed.

"Mount your brooms!" Madam Hooch commanded.

"Now when I blow the whistle you will rise into the air and make,"

Whatever else they were supposed to do Harry never heard because he saw the most amazing sight of his life. A small golden bird was fluttering thirty meters in the air. He had to get it. Harry kicked off hard and rapidly closed on the beautiful gold bird. Harry could hear shouts from below him, but paid no attention. Flying was bliss, pure bliss. Only a meter away the golden bird (which Harry could now see wasn't a bird but a small gold ball with wings, but was too lost in the hunt to care) took off at a rapid pace zigzagging and diving. Harry kept up. He could feel the adrenaline pumping as he gave chase, climbing and diving with ease, inverting himself so as to never lose eye contact with the prize. Then Harry saw it go into a spectacular freefall and hastened to follow. He completed a full seventy meter dive in a matter of seconds. Harry could see the ground rushing up at him, but the prize would be his. Ten, eight, six, four, a mere two meters from the ground Harry's hand closed around the gold ball. He could feel the wings struggling like a small mouse in his hand and he loved it.

Years of gauging distance though told Harry he couldn't make a soft landing, and rather than going head over bowtruckles he did the only thing any sensible Kneazle would. He jumped. This time the screams were as loud and real as any he'd ever heard. Harry landed headfirst on his hands, tucked, rolled, and bounced handily into a standing position. His heartbeat going as fast as he was flying and the largest grin seen at Hogwarts in a very long time plastered on his face. He felt like he'd just eaten a canary.

For the longest time no one said anything. His fellow Gryffindors stared at him like he was some sort of rock star while the Slytherins merely scowled their most unpleasant scowls. Madam Hooch looked both shocked and amazed when Harry walked up and handed her the Snitch with only a "Thought you might need that." She couldn't figure out if she should try to expel him or call England's national Quidditch team to tell them she found them a new player. She'd receive ten percent as his agent of course, she mused idly.

Luckily all parties involved were saved the dilemma by two things happening. First the Ravenclaw reserve seeker flew over to find a golden snitch that had been going haywire and not staying inside the bounds of the pitch. When he found that Harry had caught it after only maybe two minutes in the air his expression and offer to come play for Ravenclaw was enough to distract Madam Hooch from Harry's immediate expulsion until the next figure arrived.

"Harry Potter!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed. Harry looked over and his smile wavered for the first time since landing. A furious Minerva McGonagall was striding towards him with her impressive five foot six inch frame towering above him.

"Mr. Potter please come with me. If you will excuse us Madam Hooch." Harry didn't miss the shocked look on Ron's face or the smug features adorning Malfoy's. Harry thought if he got expelled the least he could do would be come back and pound the rat into next Tuesday.

Professor McGonagall led Harry swiftly into her office and roughly shut the door. Feeling the full weight of her glare on him Harry felt very suddenly like a misbehaving kitten once again. "Mr. Potter, please sit," she intoned with a finality that couldn't be mistaken as a request. "Now, would you please explain to me why you felt it necessary to perform highly dangerous aerial acrobatics, without any previous flying experience? Was it ego Mr. Potter? Did you feel like you simply had something to prove? I have noticed that you and Mr. Malfoy aren't on the best of terms, was it to show him up? Please do explain why I should not take you down to the headmaster's office this moment and recommend your immediate expulsion?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, and decided that this professor of all the people he had met here had the best chance of understanding. He just had to ask one thing. "Professor what is ego?" Harry really wanted to know. Was it an egg dish? Possibly a spell or potion he hadn't heard about. Hmm... that bore some thinking.

"Mr. Potter, I am going to assume for the moment that you are entirely serious. Ego is your sense of self-importance. I am ashamed to say, Mr. Potter that in this regard you do have a tendency to follow in your father's footsteps. I had hoped that some of your mother might be displayed more prominently than just in your eyes."

Harry's temper flared for a moment before he realized she must be talking about his human parents. He really wished people could understand his _real_ family, and not simply lump him with his two legged origins. He needed to explain himself quickly or he'd have no chance of being here to protect Ginny when she arrived.

"They're dead professor. I didn't receive anything much from them apart from a room full of shiny baubles, a nifty scar, and the total assumption that I am somehow destined to be like them despite my lack of knowledge as to their existence prior to a few months ago. No, the reason I chased after the..." Harry faltered for the right word.

"Snitch"

"Yes, Snitch. The reason I chased the Snitch was as much instinct as it was blatant curiosity. I was ready to pounce and when I saw it I couldn't help myself. Professor, you can understand that can't you? We're both tied to two different worlds. I didn't realize I was really flying until I'd nearly caught it. It was the thrill of the hunt."

"Mr. Potter, that is without a doubt the laziest excuse I have ever heard here in my time. You really expect me to believe that you simply couldn't control yourself around something shiny and moving? How are we to allow you to continue here then, when your reckless disregard for safety could put so many others at risk?"

"Yarn balls."

"Excuse me?" McGonagall looked shocked at the randomness of the statement.

"I also have a hard time around yarn balls I discovered just before I came here. Please Professor, you can't tell me you've never felt the thrill of the hunt? It's in your blood I've seen it!"

"Mr. Potter I assure you that I have no idea what you are talking about," McGonagall replied a little too quickly. "However, since neither you nor any of your year mates were hurt I suppose expulsion isn't mandatory. After all it isn't like you're the first to be a little over excited on a broom. Thirty points from Gryffindor and a week of detention. You'll be informed when."

Harry stood to leave at the obvious tone of dismissal. "And Mr. Potter," Harry looked back from the door. "Qudditch tryouts are this Sunday. It'd be a shame for you not to compete. I believe they were looking for a good seeker." With the final note, Harry nodded and headed back to the common room.

"Harry mate! That flying was bloody brilliant! Why didn't you tell me you could fly like that?" Ron was so excited he was having a tough time concentrating on dinner.

"Didn't know. Never been on a broom before," Harry said around a mouth full of pudding. Being here for dinner was making him decidedly uncomfortable with all the angry looks he kept getting from some of the other years. Apparently word of his flying escapades had gotten around and made many of the other Gryffindors rather cross with him. The second and third years didn't seem so badly off. Maybe the points dictated mating privileges and the teachers were preventing upper years from sex? That's something he hadn't thought to ask. He would have to next time he saw Professor McGonagall. Harry still couldn't decipher what house points did.

"Jus' glad it wasn't me. You know?" Neville said in a sad tone. "Brooms and I don't generally get on too well." Neville's relief at not having a flying mishap was evident, but it did nothing to dim Ron's enthusiasm.

"How can you not have been on a broom before? That flying was bloody brilliant! Are you going to try out for the Qudditch team? I mean it's not like first years ever get on, but maybe next year and then we can win the cup..." Ron's giddy anticipation was evident.

"It was hardly brilliant Ronald! Showing off on a broom isn't something to go around bragging about, and loosing thirty points as well! What were you thinking?" Harry could sense the building argument between the bushy-haired Hermione and Ron.

"Saw a bird, had to catch it I suppose. Thrill of the hunt and all that." With that Harry stood abruptly and walked out of the Great Hall to the nearest window on the second story, the now raging argument between Ron and Hermione still pounding in his ears. Harry leaped out and gracefully landing on all fours sat until the electric tingle ran down his spine and Harry sauntered off once again into the solace of the Forbidden Forest.

_AN: Thanks again for all who reviewed! This story seems to be picking up in popularity. I'm glad everyone seems to enjoy it! Ten points to whomever can guess the children's book 'big birds with teeth' __in the last chapter came from. On side note I'm still looking for a good beta. Also, I know some of you who read this are british, if you see me torturing Briticisms please let me know! I'm not and I don't understand all the slang homedog. (little joke for all of you out there in reader land.) Anyway, do your part and click that big review button and let me know what you think! I'm hoping to keep this train a rolling! Tschus- Manatoc Fox _

_PS: If this pops up as a 'new' chapter, I have finally received enough complaints about early grammatical mistakes that I will be uploading the corrected versions. Sorry it has taken this long, but I've been lazy._


	7. Halloween

Ch 7. Halloween

Harry stalked angrily down the corridor towards dinner. It was Halloween and tonight was supposed to be a party, but Harry couldn't get past his irritation with Ron. Ever since the flying mishap nearly two months ago Ron and Hermione had been fighting. Initially Harry hadn't really minded he hadn't known the bushy haired young witch and she didn't really hang around in the same social circles.

Despite Harry's placement as the starting Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, Hermione didn't seem to give an inch. She insisted that he would have made it anyway without costing the house thirty points. Harry wasn't quite sure why she was so irritated. The second and third year's still weren't all that upset about it so Harry was positive it had something to do with sex. Maybe she wasn't getting any? Although he was sure that was very true, he was sure that wasn't the answer. She was too young for that anyway.

Beyond that, she certainly didn't approve of Harry's skiving off History of Magic to go frolic on the grounds with Hagrid. Considering the classroom was on the third floor Hermione let out a rending screech the first time he skived off. That may have been because it was in the middle of the lesson and Hermione didn't approve of such things, but mostly Harry thought it was because he went out the window. No one else seemed to notice it. Although Harry was sure it did wake Ron up, much to his further annoyance with the witch.

Despite her initial unfriendliness they were able to get some help with homework and she had slowly become friendlier over the past two weeks. Harry wasn't sure if she felt the same, but Harry had a real attachment to the witch that had the dangerous potential to blossom into friendship if she'd ease up. Unfortunately, they'd had potions again today and Hermione had partnered with Ron again because Harry had matched up with Neville, feeling sorry for the outcast, and knowing that his faster reflexes would likely save him from any splash damage the round faced boy might cause.

Ron in a fit of rage after one of Professor Snape's more vicious insults had made a mess of his potion, to which Hermione had pointed out a little more harshly that normal what he did wrong. Ron's temper being what it was, on or off, had said some choice words to her causing the witch to hurry out of the classroom crying and she had not been seen for the rest of the day. Harry was very irritated because although Hermione wasn't always the most pleasant to be around she was generally helpful and would be counted on Harry's rather short list of friends if he had indeed made one.

Harry thought about trying to find her but decided against it at the moment, firstly because he was hungry, but he didn't want to cross McGonagall again and get more detentions. The last detentions weren't all that bad though. Hagrid had requested Harry for all of them and he had spent most of the time helping out with Hagrid's game keeping duties. Harry had even met and gained a grudging respect from the local pride of Kneazles in the forest. Hagrid thought they were killing his chickens, which they were, but with a little persuasion on both sides Harry convinced Hagrid not to hunt them down and instead put out meaty scraps in exchange for not killing chickens. The exchange worked well and Hagrid was impressed at Harry's 'Way wi' the beasts.' The only difficulty was explaining to the Pride why he was on two legs and not four. He'd had to go back that night to properly spell it out for them.

While those were relatively pleasant, Harry was sure that the next time his could be spent in the dungeons cleaning or trying to locate the burrow the Hufflepuffs lived in. Harry wasn't entirely sure the Sorting Hat was right about that. Harry passed a group of giggling girls talking rather loudly, at least for him.

"And I heard she spent the afternoon crying in the second floor girls' loo."

"Who?"

"You know Hermione, the bushy-haired girl with the buckteeth?"

"Oh, that one..."

At that point Harry stopped listening. If she wasn't at the feast, he'd make sure Ron went and apologized afterwards. The Pride couldn't afford divisions and whether they knew it or not Ron and Hermione were definitely part of Harry's.

Halfway through the feast a very pale professor Quirrell stumbled in and with a few words sent the whole room into an uproar. "Troll, in the dungeons. Thought you should know." With that he promptly passed out.

The uproar was deafening, and only Dumbledore's magically amplified voice could be heard over the roar of the crowd. "Prefects, please escort your houses back to their dormitories. Teachers please begin the search for the troll."

Standing and filing slowly out, Harry's mind was churning. Hermione wasn't with them, and he needed to find her.

"Blimey Harry, you all right?" Ron asked, shaking Harry out of his own mind.

"We have to go."

"Go where? We're supposed to head back to the dormitories mate. I don't fancy meeting a troll around the castle do you?"

"Ron, Hermione isn't here. She wasn't at the meal and we need to get her."

"Harry, she's mental that one. She's probably up in the tower doing homework."

"She isn't. I heard some other girls talking about her still in the loo. Second floor girls. We need to get her."

Ron's two seconds of indecision took a second too long for Harry. Slamming his forearm right below Ron's throat and driving the larger boy into the wall Harry ground out "Ron, you upset her. Whether you like it or not, she's our friend and right now she needs our help. We're going to help her... Now."

Ron's eyes were as big as saucers. He'd never seen Harry so wound up before, not even on the train ride in. "Right mate, I was just going to suggest it. Let's go then, yeah?"

Both boys slunk from the rest of the Gryffindors and headed towards the lavatory of choice. They narrowly missed running into Professor Snape, and it was only Harry's sharp sense of hearing that allowed them to duck behind a tapestry just in time to avoid notice.

"Harry, why isn't Snape in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers? Looks like he's headed to the third floor." Ron puzzled.

"Doesn't matter, we weren't caught. Hermione needs us now, and we need to move with a purpose. Come on, we're almost there."

Both boys burst into the girls' lavatory, and heard a loud sniffling coming from one of the stalls. Harry could see Ron's stomach drop at the sound.

"Hermione?" Ron called out tentatively.

"Who?... No, go away. I don't want to talk to you."

"Hermione. We have to go." Harry said more forcefully.

"Why? Not like anyone cares about me. You should go back to the common room before you lose any more points for Gryffindor."

Harry's face steeled into a mask of resolve and he strode over to the closed cubicle door stopping just short when Ron spoke.

"Hermione, look I'm sorry I said those things in potions," Harry didn't think it sounded all that sincere, but let it go when he heard Hermione's crying stop. "Please, there's a troll loose in the castle. We have to get back to the tower. _Please_" Ron nearly begged.

Hermione let out a mirthless laugh. "Ron, please. Do you think I'm that thick? How would a troll even get in here? You're all just playing some sort of trick aren't you? Well go away!"

"But..." Ron sputtered.

"I said leave me alone!" Hermione shrieked. Harry had enough. While the idea of someone playing a trick on her like this was plausible, Harry thought it was a bit farfetched for Ron to do so. Taking several steps back Harry charged the locked door. It gave way in a shower of splinters that sent Harry crashing to the ground. Harry looked up from the ground to see a tear-stained and shocked Hermione looking down at him. Quickly getting to his feet he grabbed Hermione by the arm and pointedly ignored her indignant semi-coherent sentences.

Spinning her around, Harry looked at her pointedly. "Hermione, I don't care if you think Ron and I are playing some kind of joke, or this is a crazy dream you are having. Either way, there _is_ a troll in the dungeon, the professors _did_ tell us to return to the tower and that is exactly where we're going. Whether you like it or not," Harry growled.

Hermione for her part could only shake her head in acceptance. She'd never seen anyone quite so determined as the boy in front of her now. Unfortunately as they were all turning to leave a large twelve-foot mountain troll in all its glory shambled in the door, packing a stench as lethal as its giant club.

Hermione's eyes went as wide as saucers, nearly popping out of her head. The troll gave a loud grunt and began slowly trudging towards them raising his massive club into the air. "Maybe if we stay still it won't notice us," Ron said without any real conviction. Any hopes were dashed as the club swung viciously downward spraying them with debris as the club forcefully redecorated the inside of the washroom. Harry rolled forward and chancing a glance behind him saw Ron had tackled Hermione to the ground. The troll sent its club dangerously low over their heads twice more. Harry locked eyes with Ron and the sudden telepathy common to all males in times of crisis did not fail them. They knew they needed to act.

"Ron, get Hermione out of here. I'm going to distract it!" Harry yelled.

"What! Harry, you crazy git! You can't take down a troll on your own!" Ron replied.

"Ron, I know I can't kill it, but I'll distract it until you get out. I'll follow!"

"Alright!" Ron slowly began to help a terrified Hermione up staying low. The troll had stopped swinging at them and was staring in a rather unfocused manner. It reminded Harry of Ron during History of Magic.

Harry crouched low, balancing on the balls of his feet. His calculating eyes roaming over the troll, figuring the best route of attack. Father's advice kept running through his head. _Go for the face, always for the face_.

Harry didn't know if it applied here, but it wouldn't hurt to try. He shot forward like a spring released and scrabbled up the side of the troll using its large warty exterior for hand holds. The troll for its part didn't react. It merely watched as the small creature it had been trying to kill a few moments ago climbed up its side. It watched when the small boy was at face level, and grunted in annoyance when the boy began slamming his knee into the troll's nose.

Harry was getting frustrated. He was attacking the troll's face with no more results than minor annoyance. The troll opened wide its eyes to stare at him cross-eyed and began to raise its hand. Harry noted the wide eyes of the troll. Desperate for a distraction Harry pulled his arm back and forcefully plunged his arm into the troll's open eye.

The troll bellowed in pain as blood and liquid cascaded over the dark-haired boy. "Ron, RUN!" Harry bellowed and watched as Ron forced Hermione between the enraged troll's legs and out the door. Just in time Harry removed his hand from the gaping eye socket and tried to vault over the back of the troll's head. The green skin was slick with fluids and adrenaline was pumping through his brain. Harry didn't realize he'd lost his grip until he felt the unyielding floor greet his soft fleshy back.

Harry let out a groan and looked up ever so slightly. The troll was bellowing in pain and staggering around barely missing stepping on Harry. His vision swam and his ears were ringing. He barely made out the sound of the door opening again. 'Oh good, someone to help' was the boy's only conscious thought.

_Wangardium Leviosa!_ Ron yelled. It worked like a charm. The troll stopped its drunken dance long enough to marvel that its chief instrument of destruction was now floating several feet over the troll's underutilized head. It dropped with a loud thud, followed by the earth-shaking crash of the unconscious troll dropping to the ground.

"Blimey mate, I thought you said you'd be following, not laying about trying to get some beauty rest," Ron chuckled.

Harry mustered half a smile on the side of his face that didn't feel like it was coming off and slowly, with Ron's help, stood. "Reckon someone might have heard us?" Harry asked. His ears were still ringing. "Hermione okay?"

"She's all right. We should probably get up to the tower though. Before anyone catches us."

"You head up. I'm going to be a minute." Harry sighed. There was something he needed to do.

"Nah, I'm going to check on Hermione and then we'll head up together. You look dead on yer feet mate. We'll make sure you get up ok."

"All right Ron. I'm going to kill the troll though."

"WHAT! Harry it's unconscious. We just have to get out of here. The professors will be able to deal with it... Come on," Ron almost whined.

"Ron, you don't have to help, but it needs to be done. Never leave a stray dog near the den, yeah?"

"Uh Harry, is that one of your Muggle sayings or something?"

Harry smiled as he picked up a particularly pointy piece of shattered ceramic toilet. "Yeah, something like that."

oOo

Minerva McGonagall prided herself on both her rigid self-control and her ability to suppress her emotions in times of crisis. However when she rounded the corner and saw three of her first year students emerging from a girl's bathroom and one of them looked like he'd been dipped in a barrel of blood she nearly lost both.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Weasley! Miss Granger! What on earth do you think you're doing here?" She exclaimed. To the Professors mind there was nothing that rationalized them wandering about the castle with a troll on the loose.

Hermione was for the first time in her young life going to lie to a teacher. Both Ron and Harry had saved her life and she hated to see them get into any more trouble than they were. Before the lie fully formed in her brain however Harry spoke.

"Hermione was crying in the bathroom and didn't know there was a troll so we came to get her. We killed it though."

Professor McGonagall appeared speechless. "Mr. Potter, how did three first years manage to _kill_ a mountain troll?"

The wide honest eyes of the blood-drenched boy unnerved her slightly. The arrival Professors Quirrell and Snape did little to reassure her, as she was forcefully reminded of several of the younger and more vicious Death Eater recruits in the war.

"Well, I poked out its eye and Ron knocked it out with its own club." At this point Harry puffed himself up a little with pride. "Then I took a piece of the toilet it smashed and cut its throat."

All three teachers just stood aghast at the young boy who just casually admitted to what would be considered murder if it were a human. Killing in self defense, especially with some of the more vicious dark creatures was sometimes a necessity, but killing something while it was passed out just wasn't done.

"I think that Mr. Potter needs to take a visit to the headmaster don't you think Professor?" The oily voice of Professor Snape oozed.

"Yes, yes I think so. Professor Quirrell, would you mind escorting the other two back to Gryffindor Tower?" McGonagall stammered out.

"Of course Professor. C-c-come along you two." He stuttered. Harry thought he looked a little disappointed. No doubt due to the thrill of the kill eluding him.

"This way Mr. Potter." Both Professors Snape and McGonagall followed the still blood-drenched Harry Potter forming what looked like a grisly victory parade. Harry beamed with pride. Two professors and the Headmaster? They must be very proud.

oOo

"Please explain again why you felt the need to murder the mountain troll." Snape sneered at the blood drenched student. His perfunctory answers to Dumbledore's questions hadn't satisfied him at all. He wanted this matter given more than a cursory glance. There was no doubt that the boy was dangerous if the smile and bouncing attitude were anything to go by. Most eleven-year-olds were squeamish about killing anything more humanoid than a spider. Many were even somewhat queasy about dissecting frogs for potion ingredients, and killing something like a troll should give this boy nightmares for weeks. Instead a giant grin was plastered on the boy's face and he could almost feel the pride welling off the little horror sitting in front of him.

"As I said before, Father always told me '_never let a dog near the den'_ I thought it was wise to end the threat without anyone else getting hurt. All three of us nearly died and I didn't think it would be good for the troll to wake up and continue wandering around. So I opened its throat. If I was bigger I could've gotten my jaws around his neck and just shook him like mouse or something, but I'm not that big yet." Harry pantomimed shaking a small rodent in his not-so-pointy human teeth.

The boy's enthusiasm for the kill had loosened his tongue Snape noticed. He was talking about a father? James was dead as a door nail, and Snape felt good to be rid of him, so who was this father? The boy's appetite for seemingly needless violence however was worrisome. Snape knew the prophecy, but it would do the world no good to trade one dark murdering dark lord for another if slightly less skillful one.

"Father? Who's this father?" McGonagall queried. She knew as well as anyone the boy's parents were dead.

"Oh, Father is the one."

"At the orphanage. It was a muggle religious order. The caretakers are referred to as 'Father.'" Dumbledore interrupted smoothly. "Now, professors if you will excuse us I believe I would like to have a chat with this young man." The looks that both professors exchanged didn't escape Dumbledore's notice as they hesitantly left the room.

"Harry, I would like you to think long and hard about what you did today."

Now he was confused. He rescued his Pride, killed what threatened him and didn't get hurt. What was the problem?

"My boy, there are certain customs and rules, unwritten of course, in Wizarding society that you must learn. I imagine it is the same for Kneazles?" Harry nodded. Every Pride had a different system, but things were basically the same.

"First please explain to me why you did indeed kill the troll." Dumbledore asked softly.

Harry rolled his eyes. They'd only gone over this a million times.

"Sir, I don't know what you want me to say. I killed it because it was a threat and I didn't want to leave a dog near the den."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "What precisely does that mean Mr. Potter?"

"Well, a few summers ago there was this big dog hanging around outside the den and two of my older sisters chased it off a couple of times and it kept coming back until Father saw it. When he tore its throat out, he explained that a dog near the den is a threat to the entire Pride. They'll kill Mother and the kittens. I had a chance to stop that, so I did."

Dumbledore's smile faded a little. It saddened him that a boy so young took the harsh lessons of the animal kingdom and adapted them so readily to his new life. "Unfortunately, that was not your decision to make my boy. If you find yourself put upon in the future defence is acceptable, but killing should be avoided if possible."

Harry green eyes squinted in confusion. "Don't understand. It's the job of the entire Pride to protect the den. That's all I was doing. I didn't want to fight it, but I had to get Hermione and Ron out. Why shouldn't I kill it? We kill dinner. I've seen you eating cows and chickens and pigs too."

Dumbledore sighed. He'd hoped a simple 'no' would suffice, but the boy's intellect was far beyond that of a housecat. "There are things in this world that are done. Killing to survive, eating or in self defence, these are done. However, with the great responsibility of magic comes the requirement to use our abilities wisely. We must learn to coexist with those around us, lest we bring disaster down on the world. The troll posed a threat, that was true but it wasn't your place to kill it because you didn't have to. Your friends were safe and although it could wake up, you should have alerted a professor to the situation so they could more effectively deal with it. Trolls are not overtly evil, just stupid and hungry. You will have to learn Harry, that the world is more complicated on two legs than four. Now, I think you've had a long day you should return to your common room and twenty points to Gryffindor I think for outstanding bravery."

Leaving the headmaster's office, Harry was more confused than ever. He did earn twenty points, but it wasn't for doing what needed to be done, just for bravery. What kind of reward was that? He did what he had to do. Harry still didn't really understand what the problem was, but he realized that in the future he'd have to be more careful. Life was definitely more complicated than before.

When Harry got back to the common room he was happy to note Ron and Hermione bickering in a corner. They both stopped and smiled and then rushed over to see him. Ron was ecstatic at the points they earned and Hermione was apologizing profusely. Even after Harry reassured her that it was ok she continued to apologize nearly to the point of tears.

"It's all right; Harry just didn't want to lose his homework help," Ron said smugly.

After that it was back to bickering. As Harry made his way to the shower he reflected, despite Dumbledore's warnings killing a mountain troll was a very good way to make friends.

_AN: Lets go team! The golden trio ride again, yes even in this story. Right now my computer is down so I'm having to borrow other people's so updates may be a bit off for awhile. In the mean time I issue a challenge. Challenge 1: Can someone recommend a great site to find good soul bond fiction? 2: I'd love to get up to 70 reviews (total) for this chapter because that would average 10 per. So do your part and click the button on the bottom! Thank you to all my loyal listeners and readers. I'm actually beginning to write book 2 at this point. Any plot suggestions would be helpful. Anything you want to see for the summer?_

_Adios- Manatoc fox_


	8. Penpals and Mirrors

Ch8. Penpals and Mirrors

Harry was bored... very very bored. He'd landed himself in yet another detention; Hermione was insisting that he was going to spend half his life in them, but this time really was for a good reason. Harry had decided to head out and visit Hagrid that afternoon and had inadvertently discovered a very leg-locked Neville sitting exhausted outside the portrait hole. According to the boy's story Malfoy had decided to use Harry's friend, he supposed Neville was one despite not having killed a mountain troll, for curse practice. Neville being the shy and retiring boy he was had been perfect for their bullying. Harry hated bullies. Not as much as snakes or knitting needles (they turn yarn balls into very boring things like socks or jumpers), but he really hated them.

This seemingly common action, for Neville explained it happened rather frequently, had started a chain of events that landed Harry in detention. Harry's innate hatred of bullies blended seamlessly with his distaste for the ferret Malfoy, which caused the next time Harry saw him, at dinner in the Great Hall, to end in a physical confrontation. In actuality Harry had marched over to Malfoy who was sitting in the middle of the Slytherin table, yelled 'leave Neville the hell alone' and punched the blond boy straight in the nose causing a very painful break. This cost Gryffindor thirty points and Harry another detention. 'Time well spent', was the only response when Harry was asked to justify his actions. Thus Harry and Neville's tenuous friendship began.

At the same time, Ginny Weasley was sitting on the kitchen counter in the Burrow feeling thoroughly depressed. It was nearly Christmas and she hadn't heard anything from her brothers at all. They had occasionally written to her parents, if only to avoid a Howler for not writing. Her parents had already made plans for them to spend Christmas with her brother Charlie on the dragon reserve in Romania, so there wasn't even any chance of seeing any of them before this summer. Another six months away! While Ginny wouldn't admit it, she actually got on better with Ron and the twins than any of them pretended, and right now she missed them, darn it!

To top it all off, her boon companion, her furry protector and personal feline champion Harry had disappeared. She had waited for the nearly all-black Kneazle to show up, distinguishable from the night by his deep green eyes and small white patch. He was the best Kneazle a girl could ask for and she had named him herself after the Boy-Who-Lived from her story books. To be fair she was six at the time, until then he'd merely been 'cat', but the Kneazle didn't seem to mind. When she was seven he even attacked all four of her older brothers after the twins pranked her. She didn't know who did it at the time and after shouting incoherent angry sentences at all of them, resulting in more than a few giggles from Ron and the twins, Harry had lit into all of them including Percy and left more than one deep gash from his claws.

Ginny had returned the favour by convincing her parents that he was kind of like her guard dog and they shouldn't hex him on sight. Every winter Harry would come in and help her study her lessons. He seemed more interested in it than she was at times. Now though, she hadn't seen him at all since the beginning of September and only a few times during this summer, ever since a boy was discovered over at Aunt Arabella and Uncle Sebastian's house. Now it seemed even her best four legged friend had abandoned her during her time of need. She missed them all!

She loved her brother Charlie, but two weeks on a dragon reserve in the middle of frozen Romania was not her particular cup of tea. They said they'd write, even Ron had promised under pain of death the night before he'd left that he wouldn't forget about her, but they hadn't. Well, Percy had, but it was far too formal and stiff for her to be consoled. So she didn't give it much thought when a large brown owl swooped in and landed on the porch next to Errol.

"Mum! Post is here!" Ginny yelled.

Molly Weasley bustled in with the usual energy she had maintained for the past twenty years and quickly approached the owl, attempting to get the letter tied to its leg. The owl snapped its beak in a clear warning and looked patiently at the younger Weasley female. "Mum?" Ginny asked surprised.

"I believe it's for you dear. Maybe Ron's taken to writing now," Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully.

Ginny snorted in disbelief. Unless she was a suddenly unrelated famous Qudditch player or a large pudding she doubted Ron would notice her at all now. However, with a small shred of hope she removed the letter from the owl, offered it a treat, and slowly began to read.

_Dear Ginny,_

_ I thought you might be bored. I bet Ron hasn't written yet. When we met on the platform you seemed sad, I hope you're feeling better now. Anyway, Hogwarts is awesome! I think you'll love it next year. The classes are brilliant (except History of Magic) and the professors are really great! If you want I'll take you to meet Hagrid, do you like animals? I'm always helping him with one of the forest dwellers. Quidditch is pretty spectacular too (I'm the Seeker, the youngest in a century or some such thing. I just love the feeling of flying.) I bet you're a great flier; you should try out for the house team. We won our first match against Slytherin, I caught the snitch, and my broom started bucking. If you'd like maybe you can take a ride on my broom here. It's pretty spectacular, a Nimbus 2000! Hermione thinks someone was cursing it at the match, but I don't think so. I didn't know all that much about brooms, but Ron said it was the best. Would you agree?_

_Anyway, I hope you're doing well and Molly isn't too much of a bother. Write me back if you'd like. Maybe we can be pen pals? I hope to hear from you soon._

_-Harry Potter_

Ginny stood with her mouth wide open. She hadn't received a single letter from any of her brothers, but Harry sodding Potter wrote her with no prompting and having only met her once! Maybe Ron put him up to it, but that didn't make any sense. Ginny was ecstatic at the idea of being pen pals with not only one of Ron's friends, but Harry Potter to boot! How could she say no?

Mrs. Weasley was confused. Her daughter went from shock to outright glee in a matter of seconds and had read the same note at least five times she was sure. Whoever wrote the note certainly gave Ginny something to smile about. "Who's it from dear? Ron or the twins?"

"Mum, it's from Harry Potter! Ron's friend!"

To say she was shocked would be an understatement. Why was one of Ron's friends writing to her daughter? Especially one that she hardly knew. Molly's maternal instincts were kicking in and she remembered all too clearly the naked boy in her family's kitchen. Dumbledore had said the boy was acceptable, but that didn't put her mind entirely at ease when it came to her daughter. Arthur would be even more protective. The boy just seemed so odd, but if Ron and the twins liked him he couldn't be all bad. She'd just have to wait to meet him more formally.

oOo

Harry was sitting at breakfast when the morning post came in again. A large brown owl landed in front of him and slowly stretched its leg out with a letter for Harry.

"Well it seems like the owls are warming up to you Harry. Who's the letter from mate?" Ron asked around a mouthful of eggs.

"Ron! Chew please. It's impolite to talk with your mouth full." Hermione reprimanded.

"Yes mother." Ron rolled his eyes

"It's from Ginny." Harry said, hopefully cutting off an early argument.

"Ginny? Why'd she be writing you? How she'd get an owl anyway? Really, that looks like a Hogwarts owl."

"She's just responding to my letter Ron. I wrote to her because I thought she might be lonely and I figured you and the twins were likely too busy to bother that's all."

"Just kind of weird mate. Writing to my baby sister, why'd you bother anyway? She's kind of annoying."

Harry's glare could have frozen water. "Ron..." Harry ground out. "She's... I mean I'm quite sure she's very nice. I'd think you'd treat her with more respect. You're her older brother; I think you should take care of her. Excuse me" Harry stood up quickly and stormed out of the Great Hall.

Both Ron and Hermione exchanged looks. "What'd I do?"

"Ron, I really don't know..." For once in their lives Ron and Hermione were on the same side.

Harry flopped down on his bed and shakily opened the letter. He was a little nervous. Ginny really didn't know him from a hole in the ground and a sudden letter might have scared her a bit.

_Dear Harry,_

_ I'm really surprised to get a letter from you. Did Ron ask you to? Anyway, it was nice to hear from you and I'm glad you enjoy Hogwarts. I can't wait to go next year, but I don't really know anyone else going. I'd love to meet Hagrid, if he's a friend of yours he's bound to be nice. I love Quidditch, but I've never really played. If I could take a ride on your Nimbus that would be great! If you don't mind I mean. Don't tell Ron, but I've been practicing with our families brooms for years at night. We have to go to see my brother Charlie in Romania this year, so Ron will be spending Christmas there. It would be brilliant if we could write each other. I'm glad I'll know someone there next year besides my brothers. _

_You'll let me know if anything more exciting happens? I don't know how it can get more exciting than being the youngest seeker in a century though. How are classes? Is Ron doing ok? Thank you so much for writing. I hope your classes go well!_

_-Ginny Weasley._

Harry was ecstatic. Not only did she want to be pen pals, but she didn't seem to hate him and he might be able to be friends with her. Hogwarts seemed increasingly dangerous between the spells they were learning, the occasional hallway spats with the Snakes and even the discovery of a giant three headed dog. Ginny was going to need all the looking out she could get. Harry knew all too well how independent minded she was. That was what worried Harry the most.

Harry had a duty to his human to make sure she was well taken care of and that included keeping her out of danger. He was all too capable of discovering dangerous and life threatening situations like the giant three headed dog. He'd seen Hagrid feed it once late at night, and the dog wasn't so bad if Hagrid played his pipe; the demon hound just seemed to drift right off to sleep. He didn't know however what else was in the school that he didn't know about. Harry wasn't dumb either, he knew there was more waiting to be discovered even beyond the big dog with gnashing teeth, because there was a door in the floor that the dog was standing over. When he asked Hagrid about it all the big man said was that it happened to be a private matter between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel. This of course set Hermione straight off to the library to find out who he was.

Harry was sad though. He wouldn't get to see his human in either four or two legged form because they were leaving the country. His depression didn't last too long after Ron pointed out that they would basically have the entire castle to themselves for two weeks. That was a lot of time to spend in the forest and investigate the castle for any more hidden dangers.

Harry looked up at the scratching sound and saw Ron's pet rat chewing on the sheets again. Harry really didn't know why Ron even kept it around. It wasn't like they ever used their pets in class. His eyes narrowed. Something about the rodent felt very wrong. Harry just couldn't place his finger on it. Perhaps the rat felt the intensity of the boy's scrutiny, because it stopped chewing sheets and moved very quickly under the bed. Resolving to keep an eye on the rodent and deciding to find out a bit more about it, Harry began his next letter to Ginny.

_Dear Ginny,_

_What's wrong with Ron's rat?..._

oOo

Christmas was glorious in all the freedom it provided. The reflection off the new fallen snow had given even the gloomiest depths of the forest a shiny iridescent glow. Harry was currently prowling a new section he hadn't found time to explore before. His long black tail barely twitching with restrained excitement, as paw by paw he crept deeper into the gloomy unknown.

"_Hi Cousin!"_ The sudden appearance and forceful presence of a large male Kneazle didn't sit well at all with Harry. While true that he and the local pride had come to an understanding, they still were not entirely sure what to make of him.

_"Hello Faust, any good rabbits this way?"_ Harry asked straining his senses to determine if the big Kneazle in front of him was alone. He was, which meant that this was more of a social call, not a hunting party.

_"Nah, not this far in. I'd be careful if I were you. Big spiders live not too far in that way. Even the unicorns keep clear."_

_"Good to know. Where is the herd today?" _Harry was worried. It had been nearly two weeks since Harry had spoken to any of them and they'd never gone so long before without seeing one another.

_"I don't know. Father can't even find them. They've been scared. There's something else in this forest. An evil that wasn't here before. Happy hunting cousin."_

With that the opposing male glided silently into the darkness of his home and disappeared into the night. Harry's initial curiosity at the new depths of the forest faded into concern for his herd. He would have to spend the rest of break making sure to keep the herd out of danger. Sleek black paws barely made a crunching sound as Harry treaded back into the depths of the forest known to him.

The next morning Harry was awoken by a very jovial Ron. Well more precisely he was woken by a pillow impacting with his face and Ron's loud shouts. "Harry, presents!"

Harry yawned, stretched rolled over, and moved the half of his body that was still on the bed to the floor. It seemed no matter how human he acted the inner Kneazle came out during sleep.

"Mate, how do you sleep like that? You always find the strangest positions."

"They're comfortable, Ron." Harry replied defensively, stretching and yawning again. He still had the deepest urge to sharpen his claws on the curtains in the dormitory.

"What are presents for? Is something special today?" Harry yawned.

"Mate, are you mental? It's Christmas! Haven't you had Christmas before?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Umm... No?" Harry replied tentatively. He'd never been invited downstairs when the Weasley's had their winter celebrations, but Ginny had always come out later to show him her presents. Harry'd never really been concerned with it before. The idea of Christmas seemed almost silly, why do it? He never really understood.

"Well, looks like you're going to have a first one now. Harry, you really did grow up with some weird people you know that?" Ron saw his friend stiffen and he realised that in three months Harry had not actually said more than a few vague words regarding his home prior to coming to Hogwarts. Only a few references to 'Mum' and 'Father', Ron had heard a few rumours that Harry lived in an orphanage but he'd never really asked his best friend much about his home life. Another mystery about the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry carefully opened the presents one by one. A book 'Quidditch Through the Ages' from Hermione, a box of chocolate frogs from Ron, a bag of Kneazle treats from Hagrid (Harry had mentioned he was running low), a large cake from Arabella and Sebastian, and finally a large lumpy package from the Weasleys.

"Blimey Harry! Mum sent you a Weasley jumper!"

"I wonder what colour. Hope it's not white." Harry mused out loud. Missing the strange look Ron gave him.

"Uhhh... Harry how do you know what the Weasley jumper is? I mean, I get one every year. Mum makes one for the rest of the family. Mine is always maroon," Ron grumped.

"Ron, it isn't that difficult to figure out. It's a jumper." Harry said as he ripped the paper open revealing a dark green jumper with a large H on the front. A folded piece of parchment fell out with Ginny's neat script on the front. He pocketed it swiftly enough that Ron didn't notice.

"Harry, you missed one." Ron pointed out a small present on the corner of the bed he'd somehow missed.

Harry shredded the wrapping paper and out dropped a silky grey piece of material with a note pinned to it. "Harry, is that what I think it is?" Ron gasped.

"I don't know Ron, what do you think it is?" Harry asked perplexed. He wasn't telepathic and he didn't think Ron thought so either. The red-haired boy's question was another quirk in the human language that Harry had never really figured out.

"Well, I mean... It's an Invisibility Cloak I think! Try it on." Ron said excitedly. Harry obliged, swinging the cloak over himself and looking down, gasped when he seemed to disappear. Taking it back off again he examined it, carefully reading the note pinned to it.

"It says it's from my father." Harry said worriedly. He knew the note must have meant his _human_ father. His real father didn't have a need for anything this fancy. He was invisible in the forest all on his own.

"Those are really valuable! It looks new too." Ron was practically drooling. "Harry, are you going to use it? You could go anywhere in the castle, it's incredible!"

Harry mentally laughed. He'd already become intimately familiar with much of the castle from some of his midnight prowling. He wasn't as familiar with the castle as the Forbidden Forest, but Harry thought he knew most of the stony prison pretty well already. "Nah, do you want it Ron?" Harry said suddenly. He was beginning to appreciate the fact that Ron didn't have anything to call his own. When you lived under an unused corn crib for most of your life with most of your extended family the idea of having something of your own is not only kind of foreign, it's downright scary. For Ron though, Harry supposed this might make him feel a little better.

"Harry... I couldn't. I mean it's from your dad and all." Ron said cautiously.

"Nah, I don't think it was. If you knew him, you'd know he doesn't really need them. Kind of like a ninja and all." Harry surveyed Ron's still uncertain face. "If it makes you feel better, just hang onto it for me. If I need it I'll ask yeah?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. If you want it back, uh... let me know." Ron stammered. "Wait Harry, no offense mate but I thought your parents died when you were little. You-Know-Who and all that."

"Sure, what's the problem?"

"Well you said 'if I knew your dad' how did you know about him?" Ron's brow furrowed in concentration.

"Well uhh... Arabella told me about them. She kind of knew them before..." Harry trailed off.

Even to Ron's two stroke engine mind something seemed off. "Arabella, you mean like Aunt Arabella Figg? The Squib on Mum's side that lives near the Burrow?!"

"Yeah..."

"How'd you meet her? I mean really that would mean you were living only a mile from the house. No one ever told me... wait..." Ron's mind was working overtime. There had always been something kind of familiar about some of Harry's clothes. Nothing he could put his fingers on right then, but a sudden vision of a naked boy running through the Burrow a month before they left for Hogwarts came to mind and suddenly things were falling into place. Harry had some of Ron's clothes, and had been the crazy boy that Fred and George had gotten a better look at than anyone else in the family. What was going on?!

"Harry, why were you running starkers through the Burrow?"

"When Ron?" Harry lied badly. His innocent act wasn't much better.

"Don't give me that! Beginning of August! I didn't remember you at first, but I'm really curious now." Harry shifted his weight. He could tell that Ron was getting a little too aggressive for his own good and if he needed to be put down Harry was going to have to do it, after he told him the truth of course.

"Accidental magic vanished my clothes, and some barmy old wizard was chasing me. I just ran to the first house I could find and tried to hide. Sorry if it was yours."

"Wasn't Dumbledore the one after you?" Ron looked puzzled.

"Well I didn't know that at the time did I? I just thought he was some barmy old bat chasing me for laughs."

Ron thought about that for a moment. Harry didn't really appear to be lying. It was an odd story to be sure, but no odder than some of the things that his brothers did.

"Sorry bout exploding like that mate." Ron apologized contritely. "I just, well no one... no one ever really explained what happened that day and it was just kind of a shock."

"For me too" Harry muttered.

"So can I really hang onto this cloak?" Ron asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Sure, I don't really have a use for it."

"Wicked! I'd think you would want it with as much as you go out at night. How do you avoid getting caught?" Harry's eyes closed in concentration. They were now firmly back into territory he didn't want to be discussing. Dumbledore's warnings about not revealing what he was came back full force, but then again so did a favourite phrase of the twins.

"Trade secrets Ronnikins!" Harry exclaimed happily. The rollicking laughter from the doorway distracted Ron from his potential tirade. Both younger boys' heads whipped around to see Fred and George wearing their Weasley jumpers and wiping tears from their eyes.

"With that and a Weasley jumper he really is part of the family now, isn't he George?"

"I heartily think so Fred." They both leaned over him and whispered conspiratorially "If you go out as much as we think you do and you still haven't been caught, we might have an offer for you yet." With that they hoisted Ron to his feet, missing the cloak that Ron had hastily hidden during their distraction and marched him out of the room, invariably conscripting their younger brother into forcing Percy to spend Christmas with family.

Harry then pulled out the best present of all, hidden inside his jumper was a crumpled piece of parchment.

_Dear Harry,_

_ Wow, Christmas already?! I hid this inside before Mum wrapped it up, I hope you like the jumper. Mum's been trying to teach me to knit. I hope Christmas isn't too boring for you. Mum, Dad and I are going to visit my brother Charlie in Romania on the dragon preserve. He says I'm going to get to see the baby dragon's that are hatching! You haven't seen a big black Kneazle (that's like a really big, intelligent, beautiful, brave and protective house cat) around Hogwarts have you? There was one that used to hang around the house for years, I suppose he got tired of it. Mum says not to worry he's likely just staying in from the cold._

_Can I tell you a secret? He always came over during the winter and snuck in my room! I miss him ever so much; his name was Harry too. He was kind of like my best friend. (Ron got the scar on his nose from one time when my Harry clawed him for pranking me.) I feel like we've been growing close, if only through letters. Maybe you could come visit this summer? I live near Ottery St. Catchpole out in the country. You'd love it here, and if you'd like we can go visit my Aunt Arabella. She has a whole gaggle of Kneazles, they're Harry's family I think. I know you said they were your favourite animal. Don't worry I don't like dogs much either. Then we can maybe play Quidditch if my brothers let me! You have to come, I'll talk to Mum about it. _

_Sincerely, Ginny_

Harry's smile at both the irony and the fact that she seemed to want to know his human form as well threatened to split his face. He ached to tell her, but Dumbledore's warning came out clearly. Maybe next year...

oOo

Four black paws padded softly down the stone hallway, a furry black body revealed only by the traitorous moonlight that shone through the paned window glass. Harry's midnight wanderings had increased both in frequency and duration due to the lack of classes. He loved the feeling of slinking undetected through the corridors. People couldn't see him, ghosts wouldn't take notice and the only threat of detection came from Mrs. Norris, the one castle inhabitant Harry had yet to meet.

Rounding another suit of armour Harry heard the sound of voices. "You asked me to let you know if anything strange was happening professor. There's been someone about in the Restricted Section." Harry heard the grating voice of Argus Filch.

"Yes, I did. Well done Filch. I think we can find them shortly." The oily voice of Professor Snape carried too well for Harry's liking. He hunched down and pinned his ears back, confident in the darkness to conceal him. Whoever was messing about in the library at this hour... It was Ron. Harry was sure of it. They had talked after breakfast about researching Nicholas Flamel and Ron mentioned the restricted section. With the cloak Ron could peruse the books all night. Harry congratulated him on his ingenuity and was secretly relieved. Despite Hermione's insistence, Harry had no real interest in Flamel. Hermione hadn't found anything worthwhile in any of her research thus far and he didn't think it was likely she was going to, but she had none the less tasked both boys with continuing the search in her absence.

Harry would much rather be hunting, but right now Ron needed him and badly. Despite the cloak he was sure Ron would get caught if for no other reason than he wasn't always the most careful when rule breaking. Harry needed a distraction, and fast. What to do... what to do? While the Kneazle-Who-Lived was wracking his brain for a solution, a perfect one walked right in front of him.

Mrs. Norris was sauntering down the corridor like she was the Pride Mother. Harry had heard rumours about the close ties Filch had with his feline companion, and normally Harry would never dream of interfering with such a sacred bond. He really didn't like her though. Just by watching her Harry could tell she was all the wrong kind. Not really Kneazle, but something was wrong about her movement for a regular cat. She was too smug, too sure of herself. Harry knew that overconfidence could get you killed. Time to pass the lesson on.

His back was flat and rear legs poised for the spring. His tail and ears betrayed no movement, and his green eyes were fixed on his target. When he saw Filch turn his back and call his 'pet' Harry launched and hit the opposing feline with all the power his powerful Kneazle form could muster. His body slammed into his opponent and they both tumbled head over tail several times with Harry ultimately coming out the victor. Mrs. Norris let out a retching screech as Harry's powerful legs repeatedly kicked her face. He'd grabbed her scruff in his powerful jaws and pinned her to the ground despite her loud protestations. Biting just a little harder she let out a screech that should've brought the Hufflepuffs from their burrows on the grounds.

Instead, it brought a furious caretaker's boot into contact with Harry's ribs that sent him sprawling across the floor as he felt his breath leave his lungs. Scrambling to his feet Harry sprinted up the nearest flight of stairs, a furious Filch in pursuit. Somewhere around the fourth floor the thumping of hard soled boots vanished and Harry ducked into an open classroom. Panting underneath a desk Harry asked very silently for Isis to make sure that Ron had made it back to the common room in one piece. He didn't fancy the gloating from Snape if he caught Harry's freckled friend.

Listening for the tell tale boots of either Snape of Filch Harry let out a sigh of relief when he could detect neither. Turning around he saw the flash of another Kneazle! Backing up slowly he looked around and saw only a large ornate mirror nearly as tall as the classroom. Sighing with relief Harry plodded over to make sure it was only his reflection. Transforming back into his human form Harry looked and stared at the mirror. If it was only his reflection he reasoned, he would see his human form with no traces of Kneazles hanging about.

What he saw nearly shocked him back into his fur. There was no reflection of himself, well not on two legs anyway. Instead he saw a great black male lion, with a magnificent black mane and a white lightning bolt-shaped patch above his eye. He was seeing himself after his growth spurt, he was sure of it. Then from one side walked a beautiful lioness with brilliant red fur and brown eyes so deep he thought he'd drown in them. She was strong, lithe, and muscled in all the right places. As he watched her prowl back and forth, he felt an intense longing. He knew he was too young to take a mate, but he hoped the mirror could show him the future. At their feet played three cubs. The scene was so real Harry could almost feel her fur when he watched the lioness rub against his great black mane.

If there was the slightest chance this could be real he needed to know how. Hermione would be helpful, but Ron would have to do. With that he changed back and scampered off to the Gryffindor tower eager to share his midnight discovery with his best mate.

"Did you find anything in the library?" Harry asked the next morning at breakfast.

"No, first book I opened let out a wail so loud I thought McGonagall herself would come to see," Ron said morosely. "Almost got nicked too. Good thing I've got that cloak, yeah? How'd you know I was in the library anyway?"

"Lucky guess" Harry replied, not willing to divulge his inside knowledge so easily. "Anyway I found something you have to see. I mean really have to see."

"What is it?" Ron asked his interest peaked.

"I think it's a mirror that shows you the future!" Harry replied. "Not sure though, it could be a prank or something. It was really large and all decorated in gold. You should come see tonight."

"We'll use the cloak then. Hope you don't mind..." Ron trailed off.

"Ron, I said you could use it as long as you wanted. Here, have a chocolate frog." Harry threw Ron one from his Christmas stash.

"Thanks mate!" Ron greedily tore open the package. "Dumbledore again. I've got six of him at home already... Harry!"

Ron's tone nearly caused Harry to leap through the roof. "What!"

"I just found Nicholas Flamel." Ron passed Harry the card.

"Well Hermione ought to be pleased. We'll let her know when she gets back. No more work for the holidays then!" Harry crowed!

"I suppose so. When do you want to go see this mirror?"

"Tonight work?"

"Tonight then."

oOo

"Ron?" Harry paused from writing pensively on his piece of parchment and looked up. Their trip to the Mirror of Erised had left him contemplative and on edge.

"Yeah mate?"

"What's wrong with your rat? You know, Scabbers." Harry grunted.

"I dunno. Nothing really, why?"

"He feels funny. Something's not right with him. He looks like a rat and acts like one, but he just feels funny, you know?"

"Harry, what're you talking about? I don't have a clue what all that means. Here let me get him." Ron rolled over the side of his bed and began rummaging underneath in all of Scabbers likely hiding places. "Huh, can't find him right now. Maybe later. He'll turn up when he gets hungry. Always does."

"I just think you should get him looked at is all. He doesn't feel right." Harry said again.

"What're you writing Harry?" Ron asked, more to distract the odd line of questioning than out of any real sense of curiosity.

"I'm just writing to Ginny about the mirror," Harry replied. "Won't have as much time when classes start tomorrow."

"Harry, why are you always writing my sister, mate? That's just weird. Don't you have anyone else? Like at the orphanage or something?"

"Ron, don't you think she'd be interested. Wouldn't it have helped you a bit when you started if your brothers had sent something more back than just a toilet seat? She's all alone with your mother, who can be a real handful and she misses all of you. Well maybe not Percy but definitely you and the twins. I know all you do is seem to fight, but it's _normal_. If I can help her I'm going to. Besides she's not as annoying as you seem to think. She's actually quite nice."

"Whatever you say mate. Hey, do you really think that mirror shows the future. I mean I was Quidditch captain and head boy. That'd really be something you know? I wouldn't just be the younger brother anymore." Ron sighed. Harry watched as the lanky boy stretched out on his bed, his hands resting behind his head.

"I don't think so Ron. I met Dumbledore the night after we went. He told me it showed us our greatest desire. Makes sense doesn't it? Yours just happens to be in the future."

"Wait, you met Dumbledore? What did he see?"

"Socks, said he never could have enough. I dunno sounds a bit dodgy to me. A giant yarn ball maybe, but I'm not all that chuffed about the yarn once it becomes something boring like socks."

"Harry," Ron interrupted "you never did tell me what you saw." He looked over at his friend.

Harry cocked his head to one side and shut his eyes in a picture perfect thinking position. Without warning Harry leaped nearly vertically, bounded off the bed, and took off down the stairs pausing just long enough to say "Hermione's back!"

Ron stared at the retreating form of his friend and realised just as Harry ducked out of sight he never got an answer. Sighing forcefully he stood and followed slowly hoping to Merlin that Hermione was satisfied with their findings over Christmas. By the time he got to the common room Hermione was already leafing through an impressively sized tome that Ron didn't know how she could carry let alone read.

"Here it is the Philosopher's Stone... turns any substance into gold and creates the elixir of life said to grant immortality!"

"Blimey, no wonder Snape wants to steal it! Who wouldn't want that? Live as long as you want with all the money in the world?!"

"Sounds boring. I wouldn't want that. We also don't know Snape is trying to steal it."

"Harry, you said his leg was bitten by a large dog!"

"Well yeah, I smelled er... saw the wound." Lying to Ron and Hermione always left him feeling very uncomfortable. "I don't know of anything else that could make a bite that size do you."

"And Harry, if the dog bit him that means he tried to get past the dog at some point and that must be what it was guarding! C'mon Hermione, help a bloke out, yeah?"

Ron put on his best pout, the one that usually won over his mother.

"Honestly Ron, he's a teacher. He wouldn't try to steal it! It might be guarding the stone though."

"No use jumping to conclusions. He may not want the stone. Like I said, sounds boring to me. I'm going to go take a nap though. I'll be down for dinner." With that Harry walked back up the stairs to the boys dorms.

"He's been sleeping more it seems." Hermione muttered.

"Yeah, well we've been going out at night a lot," Ron said nonchalantly.

"You WHAT! Ronald Weasley do you know what could..." She stopped in mid sentence at Ron's frantic hushing gestures.

"Hermione, we've been on holiday. Nothing else to do. Besides, I've got to show you what I got for Christmas." They both stood and slowly began heading up the stairs themselves.

"Harry is kind of an odd bloke when you look think about it. Something's just a little off about him." Ron observed.

"Ronald! I'm surprised. He's perfectly nice." Hermione countered in her best impression of her mother.

"Never said he wasn't. He's still my best mate and all, just something a little off about him is all. You know how he doesn't seem bothered at all when Snape picks on him. When that Malfoy git says something that makes _me_ want to punch him for Harry, well Harry just shrugs it off. Like it doesn't even register. Or he'll hear something no one else can hear. Always seems to know when dinner's going to be late so we don't have to rush. Just odd things now and again. He also always talks about his parents."

"Why shouldn't he? I mean, I know he was young when You-Know-Who murdered them, but no reason not for him to talk about them."

"Hermione, listen to him sometime. He talks about them like their still alive... Just kind of an odd bloke. Still a good chum though." Ron shrugged having voiced some of his observations to a sympathetic ear and then smiled when he thought about Harry's Christmas present to him.

_AN: Everyone Thank you for your reviews and reading. Yes my primary computer is down, but that won't stop UPDATE MAN! From striking. Maybe not quite as frequently. I recently read a wonderful fan fic that is on my profile. A guide for non-brits writing harry potter fanfics. Now, I have a question. This is mostly for my non-brit readers. There are a great deal of differences in spelling, grammar and overall uses of words. I am an American and I know most of my readers are too. Something I learned was the term 'Getting off with' in Britian apparently means heavy kissing maybe some light over the shirt petting. I wouldn't have known that and I'm guessing most of you wouldn't either. Because in America it is means to bring someone to orgasm/have sex with them. I promise to keep trying for my characters to sound authentic but do you want this kind of Brit-centric language in here? I know it would have confused me and changes the context of the story when read by a non-brit. British readers (I don't know how many of you there are) If I include brit centric phrases such as the one listed above do you assume because I'm American that I mean the American use of the phrase or the British because this is HP universe and it takes place on your lovely isle? Please advise. I do apologise to anyone out there who does care I do not plan on changing the American spellings involving the use of 'our' see honor vs honour. It doesn't come naturally and my spell check won't catch them. I'd prefer to stay consistent. Sorry for the long rant, but please do let me know what you'd prefer. Thank you again for reading my lovely listeners! I appreciate everything. Maybe for March we can get a new sponsor besides Gamma-gulp beer. Currently I'm wooing Golden Globes studios from New Reno and Iguana Bob's. A side note if you do see something rather out of character for a nineteen ninety's British boy/Kneazle to be saying... LET ME KNOW! I'm not British. No matter how much I try I won't get it all right. I like the queen fine, but I'm not a huge fan of 'football'/soccer and I don't really drink tea. I drive on the right side of the road (I love the pun) and I firmly believe pants have legs and zippers and are better simply referred to as jeans. I do say y'all and 'n'at (Short for and that: another ten points if you guess where this came from. HINT: Same place as Y'inz and Giant Eagle.) So my British exposure is limited to Canadians, one british family that are now Americans and HP fanfiction/canon. Help a brother out. And because I forgot to mention it earlier: Big birds with teeth was stolen directly from 'Mog in the Dark'._


	9. Dragons, loss, and life

Ch9 Dragons, Loss, and Life

The thick obscuring underbrush broke to reveal the back of Hagrid's hut and his currently defunct pumpkin patch. Harry savoured the smell of meaty scraps left out for the local Pride and tried to ignore his obvious hunger pangs as he plodded back to the castle after a morning of exploring. He'd been looking for the unicorn herd again and was becoming both increasingly frustrated and worried at their sporadic contact through the past months. After finding several of them shortly after Christmas holidays it had been nearly a month in between each successive visit.

On the upside he was getting to be intimately familiar with both the good and bad parts of the forest, especially after a near accident with the local colony of Acromantula. Eight-legged creatures were just never meant to be that large. However with the coming of spring and an early break to the cold, the snow was melting rapidly and Harry found his herd more difficult to find.

Isis curse them! How was he supposed to protect them if he didn't even know where they were? All they had told him when he caught up to them two weeks ago was that 'there was a new evil' in the forest and that it wasn't safe for Unicorn or Kneazle to be caught in its path. Unfortunately Harry had looked until his paws nearly fell off and he was still was no closer to stopping the perceived evil than he was at Christmas. On the upside they did let him play with the foals a bit, although he could see they were already beginning to lose their bright gold colouring and develop more of their parents telling white.

Hermione would likely be angry with him again. This was the fourth, or fourteenth, time he'd skived off History of Magic in his usual way since Christmas. He just couldn't resist the thrill of going out the window. He'd love to try it off the Astronomy Tower, but that might hurt a bit. Really, all those names and dates? Who had time for that anyway, not when the beauty of an early April was calling to him with the soft allure of the forest and the chance to catch lunch. Perhaps after catching a fat vole he'd even study. Charms, yes he'd work on his charms.

Harry had discovered he was not entirely rubbish at this whole idea of schooling, but there were certainly subjects he favoured. He had trouble with Charms and certainly History of Magic. Hermione thought he might not do badly if he actually attended, but then he'd be missing out on very important exploring time. Potions was a wash it seemed. He didn't mind the work, but being underground for so long really ate at him, so by the time the potion was usually ready he was such a ball of nerves that it was often a tossup as to whether it came out correctly or would explode in a thick purple haze. Or orange haze, or sea foam green. He never had figured out what he added to make a sea foam green haze that ate through any Muggle-manufactured clothing materials.

Why couldn't they hold Potions in a nice airy, sun filled classroom, like the greenhouses for Herbology? That was a class he relished. Apart from trekking through Hogwarts' vast grounds and flying, it was his second favorite activity. He was pretty good at it too. He would often try to engage Neville in long conversations involving whatever they happened to be studying at the moment, partly to help his friend feel more involved, but mostly because it prevented any infamous Granger lectures especially about History of Magic. As good as he was at Herbology, Transfiguration came as naturally as breathing really. He didn't know why and he knew his apparent skill without effort infuriated Hermione to no end. It also seemed to puzzle Professor McGonagall. He didn't know why, she was good at it too. Maybe felines just had a knack for these things. He had a strong suspicion that he'd be decent in Defence Against the Dark Arts, if they ever really learned anything there.

Then there was flying. He was sure Father would be scandalized to learn what his son was up to, but Harry had no intention of telling him right away. Harry understood why the birds loved it so. Just thinking about it made his mouth turn into a feral looking grin and his long black tail twitch with anticipation. He loved the rush of the wind and the thrill of the hunt that flying and especially Quidditch gave him. They had beaten Hufflepuff handily, not a surprise considering their subterranean nature.

There was Hagrid's hut. Hmm... Maybe Hermione would let him copy her notes again. He was trying, he really was but resisting the call of nature had never been his strong point.

Lost in thought, he almost missed a new pungent odour on the wind. Alcohol was not something Harry enjoyed. Sebastian had a fondness for the poison, and so Harry had become intimately familiar with its distinct odour. This was mixed with something else though. He rolled back on his hind legs and attempted to stand in an awkward sitting-ish position and stretched his neck as high as it would go. His black nose moving furiously to determine what the second odour could possibly be. Alcohol drowned out all but the strongest of stenches and this one was almost on equal footing.

Blood! It was blood, but not human. It lacked the coppery tang of a carnivore. Chickens, someone had killed chickens. He was going to have to talk with Hagrid. Harry was not relishing that conversation; if the local Kneazle pride had been killing chickens again, he would be hard pressed to stop the gamekeeper from hunting them down. That wasn't it though, if someone had asked Harry couldn't have answered how he knew. The whiskey was mixed with the blood... He was sure of it.

Padding softly behind Hagrid's hut Harry sniffed the air, swivelled his ears and looked both ways to make sure no one was watching him and soon felt the jolt of electricity that always accompanied his transformations. After standing and straightening his robes Harry went and knocked on Hagrid's door. For the first time in his life Harry was not treated to an immediate welcome by the oversized not quite wizard.

Instead the bushy face hidden behind the telltale bushy beard peered out from the crack in the door he had opened. "'Arry! What're you doin' here?" the man asked nervously.

"I thought I smelled whisky and blood on the air, just came by to make sure everything was keeping." Harry replied brightly.

"Yeah, yeah. Everythin's fine here. No, nothin' wrong. Jus' me an' Fang sittin' by the fire enjoyin' a drink to all those them... dead chickens and such," Hagrid clearly lied. While deception might not be Harry's forte, picking up when something was out of the ordinary was a specialty. This puzzled Harry; one of his favourite things about Hagrid was his simplicity and straightforwardness. Perhaps someone was inside threatening his friend. Perhaps Hagrid owed a particularly large gambling debt and was in the process of having it extracted. Perhaps Professor Snape was inside forcing Hagrid to concoct a strange potion that would destroy Kneazlekind forever!

That couldn't be allowed to happen. In a flash, wand in hand, Harry slammed into the door forcing it open just enough for him to roll inside and pivot around the cabin looking for the evil Professor. Not finding any immediate threats Harry turned back to see a very frightened-looking Hagrid. "Hagrid, what's wrong? I thought you were having real problems." Scanning the room once more his eyes came to rest on a large shiny black egg.

"Err, well, yeh see Harry..."

"Is that a dragon egg?" Harry asked in wonderment.

"Well, er... yes, I s'pose it is."

"Do you know what kind? That's fantastic!" Harry's earlier concern vanishing at the thought of a dragon. Maybe he could play with it.

"From the books they say it should be a Norwegian Ridgeback." Hagrid beamed at finally finding a kindred soul that seemed to be as interested in his new acquisition as he was. They spent the next hour talking about the finer points of dragon-raising and what to name the little tyke. Harry favoured something traditional like Sven, Helga, or Schadenfraude. Something to honour the little guy's heritage. Hagrid wanted Norbert.

The room was oppressively hot when Harry finally decided to leave. "Hagrid, before I go why the whisky and chicken blood? That sort of thing carries on the wind you know."

"Oh, well the book 'ere says yer supposed to feed the little guy a mixture of whiskey and chicken blood every two hours. I was just practicin' getting it ready. Now off you go, don't you have class?"

"Oh, makes sense. Yeah, I do. History of Magic should be ending but it's off to Charms next I think. I'd hate to miss that, Flitwick would notice! Bye Hagrid." With that Harry took off at a slow trot for the castle. Today was too good to last though, five minutes before he made it to Charms a smaller boy with slick blond hair and two perpetually angry bodyguards stepped out and blocked his path.

"Not going anywhere important Potter? Not rushing off to see your mother... Oh wait, you're mother's dead isn't she." When Harry had failed to rise to many of Malfoy's earlier taunts he had gotten progressively nastier and more aggressive. Nastier Harry didn't mind, it wasn't as if he understood the implied meaning behind most of the insults and as such they were easier to ignore. Aggressive though, that Harry understood and sooner or later he was going to have to put the rodent in his place. Attacking family had a tendency to not only put Harry in a fighting mood, but make him forget certain pieces of information, like the fact he was human.

"My Mum is hardly dead Malfoy. She's with father raising my siblings." Harry mentally cringed. Here at the first sign of trouble he blows his cover as a person. No one, especially Malfoy, could know about his Kneazle connections for their safety. As much as he didn't like Malfoy, he didn't want the bad taste in Father's mouth from killing the small dog in front of him. He suspected that as unpleasant as Malfoy was in life he would be equally unpleasant in death. Likely give the kittens indigestion as well.

"What, Potter you're really off your rocker, aren't you? The Dark Lord killed them dead as a doornail! He'll be coming for you soon, Potter!" Malfoy crowed. Harry contemplated this. Dark Lord... he'd heard that name in conjunction with others before.

"Dark Lord? You mean Voldemort?" Malfoy and his goons winced.

"Not wise to say his name Potter."

"Hmm... as I killed him when I was just a kitten I don't see any reason to not. I'm not all that concerned about him. If he comes back I suppose I'll just kill him again. He can't be all that dark or lordish if he goes around getting beaten by infants now can he? Unless he's as useless as you are. I suppose that must be it," Harry mused, more talking out loud to himself than to his would-be tormentors who by this time had equal parts fear and outrage dancing across their faces. He didn't normally gloat about such things, but when you can twist a Niffler by its tail…

"One doesn't say his name Potter… unless you are particularly stupid. And you kill him, HA. He's the most feared wizard in Britain. He killed better wizards than you in his sleep!"

"I doubt that, oh well. I'll not be concerned about it until I have to kill him again. Although killing his supporters might be equally satisfying." The look on Harry's face would have given small children night terrors and adults pause to consider committing the young man before them. Since Draco was somewhere in between it had a bit of both.

"W-what? You couldn't touch me," Draco stammered.

Challenge accepted. Harry's right leg shot forward and bent at the knees and leaned forward, extending his short reach to within inches of the blond boy's face with lighting speed. From his balled fist one finger shot out and touched Malfoy on the head between the eyes. "Challenge completed. I could have put my fist into your throat if I'd wanted. Remember Malfoy, if we fight, you will lose. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"What's going on here? Not starting more fights are we, Potter? Hate for you to lose any more points than necessary," The well lubricated voice of Professor Snape drifted from behind him.

"No professor, merely informing Malfoy about my seeming ability to kill Voldemort," Harry stated calmly. What little colour resided in Snape's face drained quickly out of it.

"Detention Potter, now get to class!" Snape commanded.

Harry merely shrugged and continued onto charms. Harry was somewhat distracted throughout the class to the point that he set his mop on fire. "Harry!" Hermione hissed. "Pay attention! What's gotten into you today?"

"Oh, leave him be, Hermione." Ron snorted. "It's not like this is anything big anyway."

"Ron! For your information house hold cleaning charms are going to be one of the most useful pieces of day-to-day magic we're going to learn. I'm surprised with as many brothers as you have you wouldn't have learned that by now."

"Well we don't exactly get to use it much now do we? Besides, it's not like he'll need this stuff once we graduate anyway."

"And why not?" Hermione huffed.

"Well, with how famous Harry is he'll have girls throwing themselves at him. They can do it for him. Mum always said it was a woman's responsibility to keep the house in working order," Ron smirked.

Hermione's jaw dropped so low Harry thought it might have come unhinged.

"RON! Really, that's the most backward, chauvinistic..."

"Hagrid's got a dragon." Harry said softly as he swirled his wand in another attempt to make the mop start its floor cleaning exercises.

"WHAT?" Both his friends nearly shouted, their earlier argument forgotten in the face of such an announcement.

Harry smiled slightly; distraction accomplished. "Shhh..." He cautioned them. "Don't make a big deal about it. It hasn't hatched yet, but we're pretty sure it's going to be a Norwegian Ridgeback. Look, I figured you'd want to know. He even said we could go down and watch it hatch. Wicked right?"

"Ermmmm... it's something like that anyway." Ron mumbled, clearly now as distracted with this news as Harry.

"Harry, he has to get rid of it. It's _illegal!_" Hermione stressed the last word as though it was the greatest secret in the school.

"Yeah well so is being an unregistered animagus, but lots of people do that. 'Sides, how many times do you reckon we'll get to see a dragon hatch? I bet the NEWT Care of Magical Creatures haven't yet." Harry reasoned.

"Harry, he's going to get rid of it after it hatches?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"Why would he want to do that? I mean, he already got the bloody thing why not have one. It'd be brilliant to keep about."

"Harry, where would he keep it?" Hermione pressed. "If you haven't noticed, Hagrid's house is made of wood. Dragons are a bit fiery for all that."

"I dunno Hermione, he'd have to have someplace to take it. Even baby dragons don't survive well on their own in the wild. He couldn't just turn it loose, it'd be cruel."

"Harry, you're acting like Hagrid's an expecting parent." Ron chimed in.

"Well... it's not all that different, really. Cross species adoption isn't all that strange." Ron turned back to his mop determined to drop the subject. He recognized the underlying steel in his friend's voice.

Hermione however, didn't "Harry, you can't be serious! That's the most ludicrous thing I've heard you say yet. There are a hundred things Hagrid can't teach it and no good way for him to hide it after it's born! We have to convince him to set it free."

"Drop it. He'll be a fine parent, so just leave it alone..."

"But,"

"I said leave it... Now!" This time Hermione's eyes widened. She'd never heard Harry speak like that to her. She must have touched a nerve.

As much as he hated to admit it his friends had a point. Hagrid wasn't the best equipped to deal with raising a dragon, but visions of what might have happened to him had Mum not taken him in all those years ago flashed through his head. Dealing with emotional flashbacks was not one of Harry's strong points.

oOo

"Hagrid, you have to get rid of him. It's illegal!" Hermione pleaded, staring at the small dragon nesting in Hagrid's cabin. It had begun to grow considerably in the past few days and each day that passed Hagrid was getting more attached to it. It was getting harder but far more necessary to get rid of the dragon before someone from the castle noticed.

" 'is name's Norbert. An' I can't get rid of the little tyke. Jus' look at him. Why' he'd get eaten not two days after I let him free! Can't be havin' that," Hagrid concluded.

"What happens when he gets bigger? I looked up Norwegian Ridgebacks and they can get up to sixty feet long!" Ron exclaimed. "Even a blind man would notice something was amiss." Everyone stopped and stared very closely at Ron who began to shift uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

"What?" He asked.

"Since when do you read Ron? Something besides Quidditch I mean?" Hermione asked loftily.

"Since we're going to be around a large potentially life-threatening creature that's when! I happen to like my hands and feet where they are thank you. Can't catch a Quaffle without hands." Hermione still continued her disbelieving stare as though someone might have done a very clever impersonation of her friend.

"Where would he go anyway?" Hagrid asked again. "I won' jus' be settin' him free, I won'. Needs a proper home and a good mummy he does." Norbert took this time to sneeze into Hagrid's fireplace engulfing the small opening and threatening to spill out into the rest of the far more flammable cabin. The dragon then looked at Hagrid and gave a toothy sort of smile that could either translate to happiness or a strong killing urge. "See, he don't want to leave."

"Hagrid, I think he's hungry," Harry finally interjected. "Besides, he won't be turned out into the wild on his own. He'll be going to live with Ron's brother on the preserve in Romania."

"Really? You think he'll be happy there?" The new dragon mother asked uncertainly.

"Absolutely, Charlie told me all about it last time he was home. They have all sorts of dragon amenities and handlers in case they get sick. He'll have other hatchlings to play with. It'll be fantastic." Ron gushed.

"It's for the best, Hagrid. He'll be happier there," Hermione added sagely.

"Well, I s'pose if it's for the best. When can he go?"

Ron and Hermione locked panicked eyes. Neither had thought they would convince their large friend and so had failed to make any real arrangements. "Umm... well"

"Tomorrow night, I suspect," Harry supplied, ignoring the shocked expressions on both his friends faces. "I've been talking with Ron's brother and he's got two friends in the country for business, but they leave tomorrow night. If I send them an owl them tonight Charlie said they'd be willing to pick up little Norbert on their way back to Romania. We just have to crate him up first, and add some very strong fireproofing charms."

"Well that'll be alright then."

"I think it's time we need to be heading back to the castle. Almost curfew," Hermione commented.

"Wait, Hermione it's, ooof!" Ron doubled over as Hermione slammed an elbow into his ribs. "Tired and all that," Ron finished lamely with an exaggerated stretch and a loud yawn, which turned very quickly into a scream. "YEAHHH! It bit me. Little bugger bit me!" In truth a small chunk of his hand was now missing and Harry could already smell the stench of the beginnings of putrification.

"Hagrid, we've got to go!" Harry said and rushed both Hermione and Ron out the door towards the hospital wing. "Ron, I think dragon's bites are pretty nasty. This thing is already getting infected." In truth even the short walk from the grounds saw Ron's hand taking on a purplish tint and bleeding rather quickly. Harry's concern for his friend was increasing exponentially to the point that he didn't even stop to punch Malfoy for insulting Ron and Hermione.

"Harry, we can't just take him to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey will ask questions!" Hermione hissed.

"We don't have a lot of choice. We simply have to hope for the best." Bursting through the doors that sectioned off the hospital from the rest of the castle, they were presently greeted by the woman herself.

"What happened here?" she asked, as Hermione shot Harry an 'I told you so' glance.

"He was bitten I believe." Harry replied.

"By what?" Madam Pomfrey replied.

"Dragon. A Norwegian Ridgeback." Harry responded quickly. He was answered by the serious woman rounding on him with an expression he'd only had nightmares about.

"MR. POTTER!" She fumed. "You may find your friends condition humorous, but if you are not going to help the situation then you may leave NOW! Take your young lady friend with you." She raged. Both Harry and Hermione retreated as quickly as they were able.

"That could have gone better." Hermione observed.

"I wonder why she didn't believe us. No matter as long as Ron's not in trouble we should be fine." Harry began whistling a catchy tune he'd heard on the wireless when he and Ginny were sitting outside the Burrow's kitchen window trying to steal pie crust two summers ago.

"Harry, how did you set it up with Ron's brother's friends?" Hermione asked.

"Well, not that hard really. I knew about Charlie, and I sent him an owl asking if there was anything we could do and he told me all about the reserve and his friends here in England and gave me their names to send owls to. I just set it up that was all. I knew it was the right thing to do and Ron likely wouldn't get around to it."

"And he just agreed to it?" Hermione was shocked.

"Well he's not going to turn down a Norwegian Ridgeback hatchling is he?"

"I suppose not."

"Password?" asked the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Grindylow," they said simultaneously.

They clambered in together and despite the early hour Harry'd had more than enough excitement for the next five or six hours, at least until it was time to explore the night. So he began to trudge up to his faithful bed until Hermione's voice called him back once more.

"Is it all going to be ok?" The concern on her face was evident and her hand-wringing gave away what her voice didn't.

"It'll be fine, Hermione. I'm going to mail the letter tonight and I'll let check with Hagrid tomorrow to make sure everything is in order." Seeing the concern didn't go away he added, "Ron will be fine, too."

Hermione's eyes bulged and her face turned a slight shade of red. "I knew that," she snapped. "I just hope he has sense enough to keep up on his homework." And with that final pronouncement she flounced up the stairs to the girls side. Harry cocked his head to one side as he watched her go. He could have sworn she would be more concerned about her friend. Girls were weird.

oOo

"Malfoy knows," Harry stated bluntly. They were in an unused corner of the common room patiently discussing the plans for extraditing their wayward dragon out of the country.

"WHAT!" Hermione screeched.

"The letter confirming the location we're getting rid of the dragon was in my potions book and it must have fallen out."

"Why do you think he knows then? It could have been swept up, no worries." Hermione said, but her fidgeting once again betrayed her worry.

"I'm sure he has it. He was walking right behind us when we left and I saw him bend down to pick something up. We have to assume he knows." Harry reasoned.

"There's no way he'll know for sure. He might think it was a joke or something..." she trailed off.

"You really think so?"

"No, not really."

"The ferret is one of the worst examples of a juvenile human this castle has to offer. He'll be waiting to get us in trouble. We'll have to be very careful."

"How are we going to do it?"

"We'll have to use Ron's Invisibility Cloak. I already asked him for it, so no worries. I'm sure we can sneak by Malfoy and Filch. Norbert isn't that big yet. I'm sure we can fit the box and both of us underneath it."

"That sounds risky, but we have to do it for Hagrid." It was times like this that Harry admired his bushy-haired friend the most. He knew she was petrified of rule breaking, but she was willing to do it if it meant protecting one of their friends.

"Harry, isn't it really your cloak? Ron showed it to me at Christmas, told me you gave it to him and that it used to belong to your father," Hermione commented. She had always felt curious as to why Harry would give up something so valuable to a friend that he really hadn't known all that long. "Don't you want something to remember him by?"

"Not really, I didn't know either of them. I had a perfectly marvellous er... childhood, and they weren't part of it. It's silly to feel sorry for something you can't remember. Just like it's silly for me to gloat about killing Voldemort, I don't remember doing it and I doubt I really did all that much."

"Harry, you don't miss them at all?" Hermione was puzzled. She would think not having parents would be something to miss indeed. Maybe not the rules, but she couldn't imagine her life without her parents to be there for her.

"No, not really. I...have… others that care about me, even if they're not _biologically_ related." Harry spat the word like it was a mouthful of chewing tobacco. "I really don't need the Cloak anyway."

"Wouldn't being invisible be useful sometimes though?" Hermione pressed.

"I can be if I want to be." If Hermione was honest with herself she had to admit that for a brief second Harry's smile frightened her. It reminded her of a Sabre-toothed tiger she saw once in a museum: feral, predatory and smug.

"Let's get back to figuring out how we're going to get our little friend out of here without anyone noticing."

It was eleven when they left the common room under the cover of the Invisibility Cloak and headed silently down to Hagrid's hut where a boxed Norbert was waiting patiently. Hermione cast a levitation charm on the box and after draping the cloak to cover all three occupants they headed towards the Astronomy Tower with all due haste.

They were almost there when they heard a commotion in front of them. Ducking into an unused classroom, the voices of Draco Malfoy and Professor McGonagall floated from the base of the Astronomy Tower. "Professor, you don't understand! Potter and his friends are smuggling a dragon out tonight!"

In the darkness they could see Professor McGonagall obviously just out of bed dragging Malfoy by his ear. "What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Detention and twenty points from Slytherin. I'm going to have a talk with Professor Snape about you!" Harry felt his luck rise as the two figures walked by their invisible forms, and ten minutes later they were at the top of the tower with the signal lantern guiding the dragon rescuers in.

Harry took off the Cloak and set it on in the corner of the tower and helped Hermione load Norbert's cage in the carrying case Charlie's friends had devised for the back of one of the brooms. At quarter after midnight the dragon was on its way to Romania. Going… going… gone… lost in the murky blackness of the midnight Scottish sky. Thrilled at their success and eager to get back to bed Harry and Hermione began the descent from the tower. The adrenaline pumping in his veins Harry never heard the footsteps at the bottom of the staircase until an unpleasant voice registered in his ear. "Well, well, we are in trouble, aren't we?"

oOo

Filch took them down to Professor McGonagall's study where he and Hermione waited without saying a word. Harry kicked himself mentally for not only forgetting the Cloak but being so careless as to fail to hear the caretaker at the bottom of the steps. Mistakes like that would get a Kneazle killed. He was just lucky it was only a detention he was facing, not sudden and unpleasant death at the jaws of a ravenous hellhound. Concerned as he was about the whole situation, Harry was sure no one could prove Norbert existed. All he had to do was shut up. Glancing at Hermione, she seemed to be in an entirely different place all together. Her hands were twisting together in a fashion that Harry surmised must be terribly uncomfortable. Her foot was bouncing with barely suppressed terror and Harry could feel the fear radiating off of his friend.

On the bright side, Ron was in the Hospital wing and so the damage was limited to the two of them. Tonight was really not his night. Two minutes later Professor McGonagall marched in, still in her dressing gown dragging an extremely frightened Neville Longbottom behind her. "Harry!" Neville burst out. "I tried to warn you! Malfoy said he was going to catch you, that you had a dragon!" Neville was nearly in tears at this point.

Harry remained impassive, his hunting instincts kicking in. He could remain as still as a tree root if need be. Their only hope was to pretend like nothing was wrong. Harry didn't know if their interrogating professor could pick up on emotions like he could, but it wasn't something he hoped to find out.

"I don't know if I believe this! I certainly wouldn't expect this of you Miss Granger. Filch said you were up in the Astronomy Tower. _Explain now!_" She didn't quite shout, but it was far more powerful than any of Molly Weasley's casual rants. If Harry had ears they would have been pinned flat to his head and his tail would be tucked low. He didn't know how to explain without getting his friends in trouble, and for once Hermione said nothing choosing instead to stare intently at her shoes.

"I think I know what happened. You spread some cock and bull story hoping to lure Malfoy out and get him in trouble. I suppose you think it's good fun that Neville here believed it too?" Harry's whole frame went rigid. The look of betrayal on Neville's face nearly broke Harry right there. It took every ounce of self-control not to jump over the desk and pummel the offending professor into apologizing for her comments. He locked eyes with her and any sense of ambivalence was gone. His green eyes took on a cold look. She was very lucky she was family, if distant enough.

"Professor, you will apologize to Neville for suggesting his friends would betray him like that. He was putting the well-being of the Pride above his personal safety. Where I come from we reward that sort of thing. I don't expect a tabby to understand the morals of sacrifice, but I would expect it from the Head of Gryffindor House."

The room, if possible, went quieter than before. Everyone at the room sat completely gob smacked. Filch looked almost gleeful at the ideas of what he might be able to do with the boy in front of him. Hermione sat too stunned to even comprehend what a bad idea that little speech was. Finally, Harry saw a flash of understanding and the beginnings of resolve dance across Neville's face. The boy's red eyes were no longer so puffy and his tears were locked firmly in place. He almost smiled. It would take years for Neville to finally tell his first and oddest friend what that speech meant to him.

Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, was livid. Her face currently was drawn up into something far more resembling Professor Snape than anything the stern Transfiguration professor had worn in nearly thirteen years. "Mr. Potter," her voice was deathly cold now. "I don't believe it is your place to demand anything. Detention for each of you and fifty points from Gryffindor... apiece and an extra fifty for you Potter." She spat the name as though it were something particularly loathsome.

The shocked and destroyed faces on his friends suddenly caused Harry to realise something very bad had happened, but what? It wasn't the detentions, Harry was sure of that. It couldn't be that McGonagall didn't seem to like him as much at the moment, maybe the House Points? Harry wished he understood why. In all the months here he still couldn't understand what they did.

"I can't believe I have to take two hundred points from my own house! You have destroyed the hard work of so many of your fellow classmates. I hope you understand that." The older woman's face now was not so much loathing as intense concern and disappointment. Harry's idea bulb lit up, maybe someone could finally explain what these points meant!

"Professor?" Harry began tentatively. 

"What is it, Potter?" The anger was back, but not as strong.

"Does this mean we have to miss meals or get kicked out of the dormitories?"

"No, that isn't usual procedure. You are still here to learn are you not, Mr. Potter?" Mr., that was a good sign.

"Oh, then will the older students have mating privileges taken away? Or are our future mating rights in danger?"

Neville, Harry and Hermione were then witness to something only four other students had ever seen before: a sputtering, speechless Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Potter! Would you please care to explain this perverse line of questions? I would have thought that you'd had quite enough trouble tonight without making jokes!"

Feeling her deep distress, Harry rushed to correct her. "No, I'm sorry, Professor. I'm just trying to understand the significance of the House Points."

"Mr. Potter that was explained at the opening feast. Were you in the Astronomy Tower for that too?" She was annoyed again. Harry hurried to explain.

"All you said there was that the house with the most points won a cup. You never said what happened if we lost points. Is the cup full of treats, or mice or something else really tasty? If we lose points what happens? I don't want mating rights taken away from the older years. I'll go without food if that helps."

McGonagall sat and stared at the oddest student she'd ever seen in these hallowed halls. He wasn't half giant, or a werewolf, or from a particularly notorious family. In fact the only claim he had was defeating the darkest wizard of all time when he was a baby, which she had heard, he dismissed as inconsequential. What on earth to make of him? She had been teaching for nearly thirty years now and knew all manner of students and this one didn't fit a mould. He was difficult to place most especially because he kept referring to her in either a manner of kinship, which she knew for a fact to be impossible, or as her Animagus Transformation. Nothing fit. Who was Harry Potter and where had he been for the last nine years? She knew Dumbledore said he was in an orphanage, but that didn't fit either. The Order had looked there first.

The only logical explanation was the Killing Curse that marked the young boy in front of her had driven him out of his mind. The only other explanation was he was possessed of a genius that merely simulated madness, much the same way Albus had. Neither of those fit, though. While he operated outside the normal confines of standard social behaviour for an eleven year old boy, there was a logic to it that defied madness and his genius was yet to come forth if that was the case. True the boy was exceptional at Transfiguration and Herbology, but no great talent at the rest of his courses. So what to make of him, she mused. If she were to be truly honest with herself she did have to admit this truly odd student showed an unusual loyalty and fiercely protective nature of those he called friends. If this were any other situation she would be proud, but not tonight.

"Mr. Filch, would you escort these students back to the Gryffindor common room and make sure they get there. I don't want to have to take any more points off my house tonight." She rubbed her nose in a fit of sleepiness and frustration.

Heading back to the common room Hermione and Neville were positive that the rest of the house was going to hate them. "This is the worst thing that could ever happen! I mean we were in the lead! For the first time in years Gryffindor could win the House Cup again!" Hermione wailed. There that damn cup was again, Harry thought. No one seemed to be able to positively explain why it was so important. They were still to be fed, given water and had a place to sleep. Harry was positive from his night time explorations of the castle that possession of the Cup was not necessary for human copulation. What is the purpose then?

"Neville, thank you," Harry said suddenly.

"What?! Why? All I did was cost us fifty points!" Neville nearly cried.

"Because you came out to help, even at personal risk you came out to make sure we were ok. That's the bravest thing I can think of. So, once again thank you."

Neville looked slightly less distressed. "You don't seem to be concerned about losing a hundred points in a night, Harry." he noted with almost awe.

"Well, they don't really matter, do they? And anyone who won't be friends with us over something that doesn't matter isn't worth being friends with in the first place," Harry nodded sagely.

"THEY DON"T REALLY MATTER?!" Hermione yelled so forcefully Harry was sure she was going to have a heart attack.

"Hermione, calm yourself, please." Harry's reply only seemed to antagonize the young witch further. "Could you please explain why the points are so important?"

"Well the house with the most wins the House Cup!"

"Yes, but what does the house with the least points lose?" He replied.

Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand. They don't really lose anything..."

"We don't get served less, or have to sleep outside. The older years aren't forbidden from sexing in broom cupboards at all hours of the night."

"Harry, now isn't the time for jokes. Everyone is forbidden from... doing that. We're supposed to be helping our house win points! Not lose two hundred in a night..." She moaned pitifully. "They'll never forgive us, never..."

"Then they aren't worth worrying about. We helped a friend tonight. That's worth more than any old points. Besides, you still haven't explained what they _do..._"

_An: In a small corner of USofA lives Manatoc Fox. Mild mannered individual by day but by night transforms into UPDATE MAN! Boldly posting what no one has posted before. Catching villains and sexing it up in broom cupboards at all hours of the night. No one has still guessed at where yinz comes from. Thank all you reviewers out there and a special big thank you to my regulars who take the time to let me know what they think! As a side not some people seemed less than happy with Harry giving away the cloak. I hope this clears it up. In Harry's mind he is much more concerned with the here and now. He doesn't feel a need or real connection to the cloak. Ron on the other hand has never had anything of his own and Harry knows that. He thought it might be nice for his friend._


	10. Detention

Ch 10. Detention

The next morning proved to be something out of one of Neville's nightmares. Somehow the entire story had gotten out that a couple of first years had lost Gryffindor two hundred points overnight. The fact that their once Quidditch hero, The-Boy-Who-Caught-Snitches-Like-It-Was-Going-Out-Of-Style, had single-handedly cost them points won from two Quidditch matches had thrust all three of them, but especially Harry, into a very dark place in their housemate's minds.

The plump boy looked over at his friend. It seemed strange, but Neville supposed Harry was his friend, to see him reading a letter as though without a care in the world. He wished he could be that carefree. All the confidence Harry had instilled in him the night before vanished like the mist on the moor replaced with the feelings of failure and inadequacy. Even the other houses seemed angry. For the first time in eight years Gryffindor was poised to overtake Slytherin for the house cup and Neville realized he had helped destroy those hopes. Neville wondered what his parents would say; he certainly didn't want to think about his Gran.

Harry's smile was more than genuine that morning. Not even the malicious stares from three-quarters of the school, the carefully whispered threats or the dark muttering from his own team mates could dampen his spirits as he read the piece of parchment he gripped tightly in his hand.

_Dear Harry,_

_ Mum says you might be able to visit! She had to talk with Daddy first, but I think it will be good. How are things? Have you gotten rid of the dragon yet? I hope that went ok, my brother Charlie will be over the moon! There are so few Ridgebacks left in the wild it would be a shame to try and keep one out of its natural habitat. I don't know if I told you, but when we went to Romania Charlie let me see the hatchlings. Mum was concerned about letting me near them, but I thought they were cute in a scaly, melt-your- face kind of way. _

_ I hope lessons__ are going well, when's your next Quidditch match? If you win this one you'll be in for the Cup right? Mum told me Gryffindor hasn't won the Quidditch Cup since Charlie left..._

Harry's eyes moistened slightly as he read the rest of the letter. He missed her so much it was like a near constant ache. The presence of his human had been something he'd always taken for granted, but now with her far away, the unicorns being particularly evasive and the local pride having just given birth to a new batch of kittens he felt alone for the first time since arriving.

"Hey mate, you all right?" Ron's loud voice cut through Harry's mental haze.

Well, not completely alone. He still had his bipedal Pride.

"Yeah Ron, I'm doing okay, I think." Any letter from Ginny made it a good day. Harry's grin on any other day would have been wildly infectious. The sky was blue for the first time in months and the end of term was rapidly approaching signalling with them the promise of sweet summer freedom. Today though his smile only served to increase the depth of the scowls he received from all those in the common room not directly associated with smuggling an illegally hatched dragon out of the country and losing two hundred points in the process.

"Well all right then. They're starting to think you might be a bit mental though," Ron said gesturing with his still-bandaged hand at the surrounding groups of students. "Really, Harry, what do we have to be smiling about at the moment? We lost two hundred points. Hermione told me what you said to McGonagall; you've got more stones than I thought. I think I'd crap bricks if I spoke to her like that."

"Ron, while I appreciate your use of the plural why do you say 'we'? You were, in fact, firmly ensconced in a hospital bed recovering from a particularly nasty bite. You didn't lose anything. This day should still be grand for you."

Ron made an intensely uncomfortable face. "Harry, they kind of just lump me in with you. Us being best mates an' all. I figured you'd need the company, too."

Harry smiled at the surprising thoughtfulness of his friend. "Thanks Ron." Harry stood and walked briskly to the window, leaning his head far out to the breeze and inhaled deeply. "Ron, let's go to lunch. It'll be early today. Steak and kidney pie and green beans, I think. I'll grab Neville, too. See if Hermione's about, yeah?" Ron stood dumbfounded at the carefree nature of his friend. If he didn't know better he'd think Harry really wasn't bothered at all with the loss of so many House Points and the prospect of most of the school hating him. Harry was weird, but maybe Hermione was right. It must have something to do with his home life; orphanages weren't known for their individualised attention.

Their way down to the Great Hall saw sneers, coughed comments and open hostility from everyone but the Slytherins. The other three bundled tightly around Harry and his seemingly impervious shield of I-don't-give-a-damn. Maybe it was a charm he could teach them. Harry was quite pleased to ignore the threats and taunts until a very familiar voice sailed across the corridor.

"Thanks a bunch, Potter! Pretty pathetic when you need a Weasel, Squib and a suck-up to be your body guards." Malfoy taunted. Harry flashed a dazzlingly brilliant smile and made quite the rude gesture and motioned for his friends to follow to the hopefully early lunch. Malfoy never did know how to read people. "Nothing to say, Potty? What about you, Butterbottom? Are they taking you out to say your farewells? Did Gryffindor finally have enough of a Squib like you?" Harry looked back and saw Neville on the edge of tears. Emotion wasn't what was required here, force might be. Though that seemed to sum up most situations Harry could think of.

He strode calmly over to his blond opponent who for once was not flanked by his two body guards. Draco seemed to feel that the crowded corridor would be enough deterrent to avoid a physical altercation. "Malfoy, if you don't leave my friends alone I'm going to slam your head into the wall and knock out your front teeth. Try having magic repair that."

Malfoy's returning sneer held far more fear than contempt. "You wouldn't dare, Potter. Even you're not stupid enough to start something in a crowded hallway."

"Aren't I? I've already lost a hundred points, and Gryffindor's in last place. What's a hundred more? Now, I say again walk away or I'm going to send you to the hospital wing." The calm green eyes left no doubt as to his sincerity. Draco quavered and with a final sneer strode off in search of easier prey.

"Harry, would you really have sent him to the hospital? Just for saying that about me," Neville asked timidly.

"Yes, I would have. I don't really understand everything, but if it upsets my friends then I'm going to thrash him."

"Why?" Neville responded.

"Because you're worth it."

At lunch Professor McGonagall finally assigned them detention. "It'll be with Hagrid this Thursday evening at eight. If you wish to remain students here I suggest you not be late."

That wasn't so bad if it was with Hagrid. Maybe he would have something exciting for them to do in the forest. Harry could dream. All his other more recent detentions were something pointless like shining trophies or scrubbing cauldrons. Nothing so fun as exploring the forest with Hagrid and Fang. Harry had to admit that for a dog Fang was downright tolerable.

That night saw Harry's entrance back into the forest after an extended absence. He needed to check on the unicorns and make sure they were still unharmed. The local Pride had warned him off once their kittens were born, but he'd have to take that risk.

Slinking in the shadows he was careful to stay away from any known den sites and out of his traditional hunting grounds. Harry had an idea where the Unicorns might be hiding and acting on a hunch he moved as quickly as stealth would allow. A loud caterwauling alerted everyone in the vicinity to an intruder into Kneazle territory and Harry had the unpleasant feeling the intruder was him.

Breaking into a full run wasn't enough as larger and faster Kneazles surrounded him, fur up, ears back and eyes fixed on his throat.

_'Why did you come__, cousin? You were warned to stay ou,.' _ the Father intoned.

_'My charges are here and I don't want to hurt the kittens. All kittens should be protected.'_

_'Charges? You've offered Kneazle protection to someone in the forest? You never told us.'_

_'Not someone, the herd. Ferd and his band are under my watch. I make sure nothing will happen to them, but I haven't seen them for a long time. I need to know they're still alive.'_

All surrounding Kneazles looked at Harry as though he'd sprouted a second head. Then a loud symphony of mewling began. They were laughing at him...

_'Cousin, the herd doesn't need your protection. There are far deadlier things in t__his forest than your young claws,' _ a big grey one said.

_'I've offered it and it is my responsibility while I'm here. I've helped them before and you as well. It's what I do.'_

Harry felt rather than heard a presence behind him and his nerves already stretched were pushed to the breaking point. Whirling on his back paws he came face to face with... the Unicorns. They were safe and sound! Even the foal had nearly grown into its brilliant white coat. Only a trace of the gold still lingered.

_'The little one speaks true__,'_ one of the mares said. They were always so stuffy.

_'Indeed. W__ell our apologies honored dwellers. We meant to protect our young only,' _the pride Father responded, bowing low with the rest of the Pride following suit.

_'We are safe little one. Thank you for your con__cern, but it is unnecessary. We will be fine. We believe the evil has left our forest. Go home and rest. You should not be out tonight.'_

_'I needed to find you.'_ Harry said. _'Thank you for your concern.'_ With that Harry turned and headed out with a fully armed Kneazle escort.

oOo

The following days flew by in a dreary haze. The stares and angry whispers were finally starting to get on Harry's nerves and had long since pushed Hermione to the breaking point. It was only her friends' constant companionship that saved her sanity. Soon enough, though, it was the long-dreaded Thursday night and with it the promise of an interesting night with Hagrid. Neville, Hermione and Harry met Filch down in the Entrance Hall as they had been told and were met with a rather unpleasant surprise. Malfoy had also been assigned detention with them. Harry's dreams of it being something pleasant like helping Hagrid weed out flesh-eating slugs were dashed. Likely they would be assigned something boring to satisfy the requirements and keep the nancy blond-haired ponce from getting his fur dirty.

Their way down to Hagrid's hut was punctuated with Filch's droning about 'old punishments' and chains, whips and likely tight bound leather if Harry's mind had been a few years older. As they approached the hut, Harry's night vision was obscured by a lantern held aloft by one meaty hand. "Tha' you lot, then?" The booming voice of Hagrid called out.

"It's the troublemakers all right. Don't be going to soft on them, Hagrid. I was just reminding them of the old punishments. Pity we let them die out..." Filch continued.

"Tha's what took you so long? Trying to frighten first years. Tha's not your job Filch. Best get along with you and leave this lot to me." With a clearly derisive noise in his throat Filch cast the groundskeeper one last glance and hobbled off to his bed and cat.

"What'll we be doing tonight, Hagrid? Hunting Acromantula, subduing a werewolf, cleaning out a nest of flesh eating slugs, saving a baby unicorn from certain and almost unavoidable personal peril at great risk to life and limb?" Both of Harry's friends shared a troubled glance. Was this what their friend did on his long absences from their presence? They would need to keep a closer eye on this boy next year.

A slow smile came across Hagrid's face but formed into more of a grimace at the boy's enthusiasm for what was likely going to be a painful night for the lot of them. "No, Harry, sommat's been hunting unicorns in there. Injured one tonight. I'm going in to put the poor thing out of its misery. You all are going to help. You'll be travelling in groups wi' me or Fang. Not a thing in the world that'll hurt you with us there. Malfoy, you and Neville'll take Fang here. Hermione an' Harry'll come with me," Hagrid concluded, looking at each one of the students in turn. "You need to understand, there's some bad things in there that'll be like to 'arm ye if ye wander off so stay close, an' if ye find anythin' shoot red sparks up in the air."

As Hagrid's eyes rounded on Malfoy it was plain to see his face was paler than normal and he had none of his usual swagger. "Into the forest!" He squeaked. "I didn't think we'd be going in there! If my father find's out..."

"He'll tell ye that's what its like at Hogwarts! If yeh can't stomach the punishment, don't break the rules! Unless you feel more comfortable packin' up an going home? Now that's cleared up, wait where's 'Arry?" Everyone stopped and looked around. "'Arry?" Hagrid bellowed. "Where'd the little bugger run off to?" Hagrid muttered to himself.

"Got scared most likely. And they said Gryffindors were for the brave." Malfoy smirked.

"Shut it, Malfoy. Harry's worth twelve of you!" Neville said timidly.

"What's that mean about you then, Squib?"

"Shut it, both of you!" Hermione exclaimed. She held her wand low to the ground, a point of light originating from the tip. "Size sevens... Hagrid! Over here. I think Harry went into the forest by himself. Why would he do that?" She exclaimed.

Hagrid's bushy face bent low and peered at the freshly disturbed earth. "I think yer right Hermione. A right clever witch you are. Right you lot, change of plans then. Neville you an' Draco'll stay here in case 'Arry returns. If he does shoot up red sparks. Hermione and I'll go into the forest to find the boy." Hagrid turned and picked up his mammoth crossbow, motioning Hermione to follow. "Cor, I wonder why he'd do somthin' so foolish. Don' no firs' year have the knowhow to go sneakin' off into the Forbidden Forest on his own." The mammoth man shook his head sadly, wondering if there'd be enough pieces of the boy to bury.

The 'foolish boy' in question had no real intention of taking off anywhere that night until the fact that they were looking for an injured unicorn had escaped Hagrid's lips. Harry had felt his stomach drop to his knees and tears of impotent rage sprung to his eyes. They were his to protect dammit! Now who knows what had been stalking his herd for days maybe months! It wasn't easy to sneak up a unicorn, Harry knew that and harder still to kill one but something had. If Harry could get there in time maybe he could save it? Unwarranted hope swelled in his chest as he prayed to Isis that the favour she bestowed on Kneazles be shared just a little tonight with the herd he'd become so attached to.

Faster and faster his paws carried him into the black tangled abyss of the forest. The briars and brambles pulled at his fur and whipped his ears. He never remembered to change from two legs to four, and never felt the tell tale tremor that accompanied the change, so focused was he. The only thing that kept going through the small Kneazle brain was the urge to find his hurt unicorn. They had told him the evil had left! Why had they lied? He needed to be there to protect them!

The scent was becoming clearer and he stopped only briefly to investigate a small puddle of a silvery blue liquid almost undetectable with the human eye. It was blood... An involuntary shiver went up his spine and fear like he'd known only once briefly replaced the rage that had been simmering beneath his furry surface. He saw another slightly larger drop ahead and Harry was off again.

The droplets began to form small puddles that turned into larger pools still. Harry didn't know how much blood a unicorn had, but the one he was tracking couldn't have very much more left. Harry thought he heard his name being bellowed somewhere in the distance, but he was getting close and he couldn't stop. He was nearly there when he saw three familiar figures. Three of the largest Kneazles from the local pride were standing in his way, blocking his path.

_'Do you know what this is Cousin?'_ The first asked.

_'__Unicorn blood. Please move! I have to find her... she's dying.'_

_'We know, we're coming with you.' _

_'You were waiting?' _Harry's forehead creased with confusion. _ 'I don't understand. Why aren't you trying to save her if you know?'_

_'They don't trust us like they do you little cousin. We need you to guide us in.'_

Harry stopped in his tracks and looked at them seriously. _'Why are you helping them.'_

_'They're part of our forest too. We watch our own cousin, and you've extended them Kneazle protection. Understand?'_

_'__Let's go.'_

Harry, now accompanied by three others, left at a breakneck pace hurtling through the undergrowth praying to arrive on time. Unfortunately travelling at high velocity in a forest is never a good idea when your brain has a sudden inclination to feel like it's on fire. The screaming pain lanced through the black Kneazle causing him to lose focus and crash headfirst into a large oak. The pain, apart from the splitting headache he now had, suddenly vanished and focusing through the tears forming Harry saw a beautiful silver form, covered in blood and lying all too still on the ground. He and his furry companions began to approach slowly, sniffing the air for foreign scents and any sign of the forest intruder.

Harry's brain was once again assaulted with the near-blinding pain lancing through his white stripe over his eye. Through it all he could make out a tall shadowy cloaked figure gliding silently (at least for human standards) towards the body of the slain unicorn. Harry recognized him; it was Ferd the band stallion. Someone had slain the band stallion and was coming to eat him! This was no Acromantula and the magic radiating off the cloaked figure was far too evil for a simple forest creature. No, this figure had a purpose and though his head was burning with an unrivalled intensity Harry's fur went up and his fury once again resurfaced. He was a furry volcano ready to explode with giant claws and huge teeth to rend this offender limb from limb!

All the furry onlookers watched in abject horror as the two-legged creature bent to the pure carcass of the unicorn and dipped his hand into its stomach drawing out a handful of the silvery blue blood. Slowly he raised his hand to his lips and a sickly sucking sound could be heard. Harry understood. This creature had killed a pure and innocent animal under his protection for a handful of blood... The pent up anger, frustration and pure rage exploded into action.

Ignoring the pain Harry burst forth from his hiding place like a bullet from a gun. Once again, Father's words came to aid him 'Go for the throat, always the throat.'

_'Cousin__, WAIT!'_ Harry heard dimly in the background, but his quest for blood and vengeance would not be delayed any longer. He leapt at the still crouched man who, unfortunately for him, had turned his head slightly exposing the open front of the cloak. Harry's vicious little claws sunk into the man's neck and his teeth latched onto the windpipe struggling to crush the vital organ in his powerful jaws.

Harry's rage had overtaken him so completely it was almost a full three seconds before he felt the blinding pain that seemed to surge through his whole body and a distinct heat underneath his paws. The smell of burned flesh was pungent and Harry could feel blisters forming underneath his paws. Yet he hung on gamely digging his claws deeper into the man's rapidly deteriorating flesh and forcing his jaws closed over the offender's trachea. Harry's head felt like it was going to explode in two and everything was a blur.

Finally with his last great effort he felt his jaws slam shut and the residual resistance of the man's flesh give way. The cloaked perpetrator made a gurgling sound and slumped backwards, his burnt flesh soaked in his own blood as the feeling of an evil spirit evaporated from the forest floor. Harry released his jaws and felt the distinct sensation of rough tongues cleaning his now blood-soaked fur. A low rumbling purr helped soothe the pain before unconsciousness claimed him.

_'Well done cousin, well done. Your friends will sleep safely tonight.' _ With that the large grey male began calling for help defending their weakened champion.

oOo

Hagrid heard the hooves before he saw the centaurs. They were frustrating creatures, especially for Hagrid who was far more grounded than most, but it was worth the aggravation if they had seen Harry.

"Ronan, good teh see you. This is Hermione Granger by the way, a student up at the school. This is Ronan, a centaur."

"So I'd noticed," Hermione whispered.

"Hello to you, Miss Granger. A student you say? Do you learn much up at the school?"

"A fair bit I suppose," she replied faintly.

"That's something then, isn't it?" The centaur's sombre baritone marveled.

"Err... Ronan, I'm sorry but we're in a bit o' a hurry yeh see. I've lost one o' the students in this forest and I'd wondered if you'd seen him. Name's Harry Potter, about this high, green eyes and black hair."

"Mars has dimmed. Unusually dim. It was bright not a fortnight ago."

"Er.. yeah. I was wondering, though, if you've seen a lost boy here in these woods. Yeh know, something closer to home."

The sound of hooves preceded the arrival of Ronan's kinsman.

"Hi there Bane, we were just wondering if…"

"Mars has dimmed tonight."

"So I've heard," Hagrid replied evenly.

"Look to the Kneazles, not to the Stars Hagrid. Your answers are there." With that parting shot the centaurs sauntered off into the gloom of the night.

"Ruddy stargazers. Never try to get a straight answer out of a centaur," Hagrid sagely advised Hermione. The two trekked on for some time when a distant mewling drew their attention.

"Hagrid, is that a Kneazle? I've read about them, magical house cats, aren't they?"

Hagrid chuckled. There were some things after nearly fifty years of working with magical creatures that one found funny. Comparing Kneazles to house cats was one of them. "They migh' be a bit, Hermione, but don' tell them that. They're mighty particular 'bout their place in life. Some folk reckon they think they're just little lions waiting for their growth spurt. Nothin' to be worried about though."

"Hagrid, the centaurs told us to look to the Kneazles. We should see what's been going on!" Hermione persisted.

"Yeh might have somethin' there. Never said you were the brightest witch in yer year fur nothing,'" the giant man chuckled.

Hermione blushed at the praise, and hurried at a near run to keep up with her protector. The closer they got the more apparent it was that the noise was generated by a large number of feline vocal cords mewling in near unison as if calling for someone or mourning the dead. When they got close enough the young witch could make out the forms of nearly thirty Kneazles surrounding what looked like three bodies. The first was what she suspected caused the commotion, an all-black one of their own lay prone on the ground, his black fur was marred by a thick coat of dark red blood around his mouth and on his paws. It was like a nature show on the telly! Behind him lay the slain form of a unicorn and the form of a man... She felt woozy and the forest started to swim. Black blisters like those of burn victims marked the man's face, neck and hands. A look of terror was etched into the man's face and a large portion of his throat seemed to be missing. Looking a little closer she realized it wasn't any man, she knew him... It was Professor Quirrell their Defence professor. She emptied the contents of her stomach onto her shoes, not caring for once what became of her robes.

Hagrid fought down the same feeling as he approached the scene. Whether he liked the man or not, it was only proper that he retrieve the body for Dumbledore. Looking down at the scene before him it was difficult to tell what had happened. Three bodies, and while it was clear enough that the Kneazle had killed... that was impossible. It looked like the Kneazle had killed the professor and judging from a few flecks left on his robes the professor may well have killed the unicorn before him. That shouldn't have been possible. No underweight house cat should have been able to kill a defense professor, inept as the man was.

Hagrid gently wrapped the dead man securely in his cloak and hoisted the body over his shoulder like a sack of beans and then bent down gently to lift the still-breathing Kneazle from the forest floor; Dumbledore would certainly want to take a look at him. Two separate sets of teeth sunk deeply into his hand and the mewling turned into a much more formidable growl. Being nearly ten feet tall and with a hide as thick as many giants', Hagrid wasn't physically intimidated by much. Even he had to admit this caught him a little off guard.

Hermione spoke softly, "Please, we don't want to hurt him. He needs help. We just want to help him." After a few more promises of attention and their good intentions the Pride reluctantly parted and let her through. She gently scooped up the large feline in her arms and began to carry him much the same way one would carry a tired toddler. His breathing was shallow, but regular. Hermione had no idea if Madam Pomfrey could cure magical animals, but she hoped so. She didn't like to see any animal killed without reason. It was a long road back as they trudged in silence to the castle.

AN: Whoah! All those who saw that coming please raise their hands! I love it. I would at this point like to thank again wsbenge and his story The Natural Animagus for inspiration and several plot devices. This happens to be one of them. Now, if there are any questions I'll be happy to answer them. I am writing chapters several ahead and I am pleased with the response. I doubt I'll have another update for a week or maybe two… oohhh… so I hope this carries you over. I'd also like to say that at the end of each year (not story) I will be taking a minor hiatus two-three weeks most likely to work on more of the story and try to make sure it is going where I want. Let me know what you think and punch that review button! A final question anyone know if Harry raised by Americans has been done before? I'm curious to see how it is done. I was contemplating a story when I am done with this one but I am loathe to rehash a fandom cliché if that is indeed what it is. Let me know!


	11. Aftermath and Discovery

Ch 11 Aftermath and Discovery

Albus Dumbledore watched tentatively as the black Kneazle Hagrid had brought in twitched various appendages experimentally. The ears were the first to move, honing in on the quiet discussion of Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. The tail began to twitch and finally the eyes fluttered experimentally. After three days Dumbledore could finally breathe a sigh of relief. He'd immediately recognized the animagus form of one Harry James Potter when it was brought in, but he'd not felt comfortable revealing Harry's secret in front of so many people. Unfortunately, Harry's prolonged absence had raised questions among his peers. Naturally the whole tale had gotten out somehow and now it was well known throughout the castle that Harry had recklessly run off into the forest to save a dying unicorn where he'd been injured by some of the nastier unnamed denizens of the forest and rescued only moments before death by Dumbledore himself.

The real story was far more troubling and not one that Dumbledore understood completely. Harry had been understandably upset by the death of one of the unicorns and charged off to find and rescue it. What was unclear was to the reason he attacked and killed Professor Quirrell. Examining the man's wand Dumbledore could find no recent traces of offensive magic, meaning the man was taken by surprise. Severus had his suspicions about the true nature of Quirrell, involving the Dark Lord himself, and Dumbledore was inclined to agree. That didn't explain how or why an eleven-year-old student would be able to find and defeat a fully trained and possibly possessed wizard without further explanation. This begat all the impatient waiting. Now that it was clear the boy was waking up and that he had a penchant for getting into possibly life-threatening situations it was time to reveal the boy's secret to another. The only other he would trust at the moment was Harry's stern head of house, Minerva McGonagall.

"Albus, what's going on? Have you found Harry yet?" The stern professor asked. "I know everyone seems to think we have him, but I haven't seen him yet." Dumbledore smiled at Minerva's rapid questions. If nothing else she was doggedly, forgive the pun, protective of her students.

"Minerva, calm yourself, please. While you may not have seen young Mr. Potter he has been in our care the past three days. He's just woken up. I believe we need to ask him to reveal himself." Taking his professor's hand Dumbledore led her over to a bed with curtains drawn around it. Waving his wand the curtains opened to reveal a black Kneazle, his ears focused on them, tail gently twitching and eyes slitted against the bright candlelight illuminating the room.

"Albus, I don't understand. This was the Kneazle that Hagrid brought in Thursday evening."

"And a good thing he did Minerva. It may have well saved the boy's life. Harry," Dumbledore began.

"His name's Harry? Like my student? Is this a joke Albus?" Minerva interrupted suddenly.

"Calm yourself my dear lady. I assure you there is no joke here. His name is in fact Harry, not like your student, but as in your student. I believe we should ask Mr. Potter to show you. A picture is as they say worth a thousand words." Turning to the Kneazle, now with wide frightened green eyes, Dumbledore merely smiled and kindly said "Harry I think it's time to reveal yourself to Professor McGonagall now that you're awake." When the only response was a low growling the wizened headmaster continued, "It's for the best my boy. She can help keep your secret and help you further adjust. In addition it will be rather difficult to avoid exposing yourself to the school without some addition help. Imagine all the attention you might receive." If nothing else that clenched it. Harry really didn't enjoy any more attention than strictly needed and if revealing himself to his head of house was a way to avoid it then so he would. Besides, the old bat should understand right? She was part feline herself.

The electric tingle was barely noticeable as the Kneazle enlarged to a very tired and bedraggled-looking human Harry. The messy black hair still had tiny clumps of blood where they hadn't quite been able to clean it all out and he felt like he'd been run over by a herd of Thestrals. The gasp of shock that came from Professor McGonagall was a little confusing though. She could do the same thing, why not he?

"Albus, in all my years here I've never heard of anything so... incredible! He's a first year; he shouldn't have been able to learn the Animagus Transformation for years yet! I know that some students are able to master it early, but only by fifth or sixth year at the earliest! For all my life I've never heard of a magical animal transformation..." She trailed off, her shock finally getting the better of her speech cords.

"That is not the least remarkable aspect of the whole situation, but I can explain that further some other time. At the moment all that you need to know is that Harry is for all intents and purposes an unregistered animagus and that we will keep that secret. It may prove invaluable someday in thwarting an attempt on the boy's life from those that mean him harm." The headmaster's eyes suddenly took on a serious glint as he sat down in a conjured plush armchair and rounded on Harry, his eyes boring into the boy's. "What I need from you my boy is the entire story and truth about the night you went into the forest."

"Which one?"

"You mean you've been going into the forest on more than one occasion?" McGonagall gasped in obvious dismay.

"Well yeah. How else was I supposed to protect the Unicorns? Not just at night though, afternoons, after Quidditch practice, during History of Magic, almost anytime I can get away. Especially if Ron and Hermione are fighting. I think I've most of the place mapped out now. Except the Acromantula lair, I don't know at all about them. Maybe next year," he finished hopefully.

A nearly unreadable expression on Professor McGonagall's face led Harry to the conclusion that he must have said something wrong, but he was interrupted before he could ask. "I mean the night you were to enter for detention with Hagrid and three of your fellow students."

"Oh that night!" His eyes gleamed in recognition. "That night... I'll tell you what I remember; some of it was kind of hazy. Especially when I killed Quirrell," he said flatly.

McGonagall gasped again at his matter of fact tone. "Professor Quirrell," Dumbledore replied automatically.

"Not professing much of anything anymore. I took care of that," Harry replied smugly, his Cheshire grin covering his whole face.

"You mean you knew who he was, and you still attacked him?" Professor McGonagall asked faintly. She looked about to faint and settled for sinking deeply into a freshly-conjured plush armchair.

"Yeah, he had a cloak on and everything, but I caught a glimpse of his face right before I tore his throat out. Well, not so much tore it kind of burned now that I think about it. But I did snap his windpipe!" Harry finished brightly.

Dumbledore was completely unsure as what to make of the young boy in front of him. He was beginning to think Severus might be right. Did the years as an Animagus scramble the boy's brains so completely? He didn't see an innate darkness in the boy, not like with Voldemort as a boy, but for someone so young to speak so... gleefully about killing put him in the same field as Bellatrix Lestrange. He needed the whole story and soon, lest he condemn the boy without all information.

"Harry, perhaps you'd better start at the beginning, a good place I think. Start when you reported for detention."

"Yes sir. Well Hermione, Neville and I met Filch on the front steps..."

Harry retold the entire story so quickly and with such emotion both teachers had difficulty remaining passive. McGonagall gasped when Harry told about seeing the dead unicorn and seeing a hooded figure drink its blood and her heart nearly stopped when she realized the implications of the situation. Her eyes studied her young student and everything clicked into place. This boy wasn't normal, but he was no dark wizard. If she didn't miss her guess they were dealing with one of the most unusual and powerful cases of accidental magic in the history of Hogwarts. The boy unintentionally became a Kneazle and then learned how to change back and forth. His absolute talent for Transfiguration made much more sense now.

"And then I leaped at his face and dug my claws into his neck. I tried to tear his throat out, but my jaws weren't quite strong enough. I haven't hit my growth spurt yet... unfortunately. Instead my head felt like it was coming off and his skin blistered and burned wherever I touched him. So I locked my jaws around his windpipe and it burned it away until it was soft enough for me to jus 'pop' it out and crush it! Father would have been very proud," Harry finished with a gleam in his eye and a smile on his face.

Dumbledore felt faint. In all his years he'd never met a student so young that had such a natural affinity and acceptance of both death and killing. He hoped dearly that he could change the boy's outlook on life. He glanced over at his transfiguration professor. While she appeared stern and unyielding to the rest of the world in her many years of teaching he'd learned to read her and she seemed... curious. Not the reaction he'd expected but then Minerva always did seem to surprise him.

"Harry I have one question," Professor McGonagall began. "Who is your father? The one you talk about, your real father. Was he human or..." She finished uncertainly.

At her wide eyed curiosity Harry couldn't help but laugh. Retelling the story from the forest had brought all the memories and emotions back from that night and he felt nearly as drained now as he did then, minus the heart wrenching-fury. "No cousin, I do hope you understand now, my father was all Kneazle."

After an eternity McGonagall finally managed to shut her mouth and compose her features into something more becoming her outward facade. "You grew up as one of them? Why did you come back?"

"I'm not sure I 'came back' as you put it. I'm still undecided if this is a joke from Isis or a boon. I became human because I needed it at the time. I was being chased by a rather old Kneazle molester and I needed to work some powerful black magic."

"You didn't have your wand then... what could you have possibly done?" Did this boy have no limits? McGonagall wondered.

"Doorknobs, the bane of Kneazles everywhere. Isis did not give us thumbs so that we would not rule the world," Harry said matter-of-factly. "But yes to your original question I was born, or at least became Kneazle shortly thereafter. As to why I came to Hogwarts... I needed to make it safe for my Human. She'll be attending next year. I see this was as good a decision as I have ever made. There are far too many dangers for her to be here alone."

This was almost too much for Minerva and she sank back down into her chair once again. Seeing her distress Dumbledore took back over the conversation. "Harry, I must impress the seriousness of the situation on you. Before I explain everything to you I need to know why did you kill Professor Quirrell?"

"The son-of-a-bitch killed one of my unicorns. I'd promised them protection..." Harry wiped his eyes with the back of his dirty robes staunching the tears that were threatening to fall. "The innocent always die first. He didn't kill for food like the Acromantula, or to protect territory like Father, not even in the defence of kittens. He killed for some sick human pleasure! I don't understand you, I doubt I ever will, but I'd promised them protection and while revenge is a poor imitation it is the best I can do. I'm proud I killed him. He's truly human and the world is best rid of him." At this Harry stopped and sat up straight. "I'm proud of it professor. I'd do it again. Ferd deserved better than that." Dumbledore's old ears could barely make out something that sounded like 'only humans'.

McGonagall was almost speechless. The depth to which this boy's loyalty ran made her wonder why he wasn't in Hufflepuff with Professor Sprout. She shifted uneasily in her chair. The truth was, as disturbing as this was to hear, she sympathized with the boy.

"What is it, cousin? Cat got your tongue?" Harry said, clearly noting his professor's unease.

"Harry, you've called me cousin on numerous occasions. Why?" Of all the potential questions, this one burned the most brightly for McGonagall.

Harry's mischievous smile surfaced again. "Well, cousin," He grinned, "Kneazles and tabby's are related even if we don't want to admit it. Father told me once. We are related more closely than most; we're part of two worlds. I am a Kneazle masquerading in yours and you are a human hiding in mine, but we understand each other in a way I doubt many others could. You feel the thrill of the hunt and have the urge to explore and I'm quite sure your love of sunbeams isn't accidental. We're cousins if not by blood then by magic."

McGonagall smiled gently. The boy before her was so much wiser than his years when he could let it out. She would always wonder how different life might have been if he'd stayed human. Forcing her stern façade back in place she responded, "Cousins we may be, but while we're here I'm always Professor to you. Understood?" Harry nodded quickly.

"Minerva, I believe we may be slightly off track. I do have a few more questions for the boy before Poppy comes and removes us," Dumbledore concluded with the closest thing to a frown that Harry had ever seen the man wear.

Dumbledore didn't like doing it, but he needed to find out if there was an inner darkness to the boy. There was too much at stake for anything to be left to chance. This boy could well be the key to defeating Voldemort forever, and while he may not have realized it, if the old man's suspicions were right the black-furred boy sitting in front of him now may have done so again tonight, at least temporarily. But Albus Dumbledore would not be party in trading one dark lord for another.

"Harry, but what about what Professor Quirrell deserved? I told you before things are much more complicated on two legs than four. Didn't he deserve a trial? While his deeds are terrible there are ways of doing things here in the Wizarding world that may seem alien to you... customs that must be observed."

"Professor," Harry's voice took on a hard edge. Suddenly he was no longer the happy carefree boy that loved Quidditch and sneaking out to Hagrid's hut, but a boy who'd seen death and taken life. That much was clear to anyone who cared to look at the moment. "Do you want me to tell you what I observed? Those who harm my friends are punished. If they try to kill one, I WILL kill them first. If they do kill one I will kill them back. I've learned about your human ideas of justice, and revenge and this has nothing to do with that."

"Oh no?" Dumbledore's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline

"No, it has to do with protecting the Pride. If a dog can kill a kitten at will more dogs will come. If we kill the dog that kills our kitten it won't do it again. The world is a harsh place professor and I think I may have seen more of it than most. Death is an everyday occurrence within my world. I _observed_ your professor drink the blood of a friend of mine. Would you be so forgiving if you had witnessed the same? What if it was one of the students? I think not." Harry closed his eyes

"Harry, it is not our place to decide life and death. I appreciate your sentiments possibly far more than you can understand but I need to know... did you feel joy in killing him? Did it make you happy? Couldn't you think of a better way?"

"Joy and happiness professor? If I think back on it there wasn't much beyond the rage."

"And now?"

"In a cold kind of way, yes, professor, I'm happy. He deserved to die and though you point out there were those more worthy to do it. I was blessed with the opportunity to defend those I care about, praise Isis, and kill a demon of a man. So am I happy, yes. I don't feel joy though. It's a cold feeling. Father told me this would happen. I'm prepared."

"Harry, none of us are truly prepared to take another's life. I hope that you never are called on again to do so."

"If that is the case, then we'll all be happy because bad things will have ceased to exist."

"Harry, I must now ask another favour of you," Dumbledore sighed. If the boy had been a cat at the moment his tail would have been twitching furiously. "You must not tell anyone about this tonight. You may have done a great thing and so helped save our world again."

"What do you mean professor? I know Quirrell was bad but how did I save anything except more unicorns?"

"Do you know what unicorn blood does Harry?" Dumbledore asked. Harry looked puzzled and shook his head side to side.

"It will save you if you are an inch from death but at a terrible cost. You will live a half life, a cursed life from the moment the blood touches your lips."

"Good, I hope that son-of-a-bitch rots in the festering dog kennels."

"I do not think it was for him alone, Harry. Can you think of anyone who might want to use that until he could gain true mortality again?"

"No, not really, maybe Professor Binns? He seems happy as a ghost though."

"Albus, you don't mean You-Know-Who?" McGonagall looked scared for the first time since Harry had ever seen her.

"Oh, you mean Voldemort?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore chuckled softly while his professor winced. "Very good Harry I'm glad you can say his name. Fear of a name increases fear of a thing itself."

"No, I just want to be clear. I never understood He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, because what if there is someone you really don't like and don't want to say their name? It makes things so troublesome."

Dumbledore chuckled again. In so many ways the boy had grown up far too quickly and others he was still the baby he'd dropped off at his Aunt's house ten years ago. "Yes, Voldemort. While Professor Snape had his suspicions that Quirrell may have been up to no good, it took your story tonight to confirm any suspicion that the late Professor Quirrell was in league with Voldemort and I believe his eventual attempt at far more nefarious activities within this castle."

"You mean stealing the Philosopher's Stone?" Harry asked.

"You know about the stone! I'm delighted. Yes Harry, stealing the Stone. Professor Snape though it was for his own selfish interests. It seems however that our good professor was possessed by our old friend Voldemort. I believe that his eventual plan was to revive himself enough to make an attempt on the stone and return to full power. We need not be worried about it in the future though."

"So he was the one that really wanted to kill the unicorns?"

"Yes, Harry, I believe he was."

"I'm going to get him then. Not today, but I will. He deserves to die... permanently."

"Harry, death and killing is not always the answer. That is what has gotten us into the place we are today. Defend those you love, yes, but don't seek out to kill independently. You have been given a fine gift, use it wisely."

"Professor, if what you told me is true and Voldemort is still alive and ready to return then it seems that _not_ killing is what got us into the place we are today. If we let rabid dogs loose then they'll come back to bite us. That much I know."

Seeing the boy wouldn't be won over at the moment, Dumbledore and McGonagall both gently stood and with a flick of a wand vanished the conjured armchairs. "I think it is time for you to sleep. I spoke with Madam Pomfrey and she assures me you'll be out this time tomorrow."

"Can I play Quiddich? We've got our final match for coming up against Ravenclaw in a few weeks. I need to be ready!"

"I believe, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall began, "That you will be fully functional on a broom stick. I expect the fastest catch of your golden bird yet… don't let me down, cousin."

It was Harry's turn to be shocked as he watched the old witch walk briskly out of the room. His Head of House had, however tenuously, accepted their familial ties. Maybe sometime she could visit Father and Mum and all the brothers and sisters.

"What happened to the stone? Is it still here? Will he come back?" Harry asked, his mind suddenly having realised the importance of the idea.

"It seems I had made a colossal error in judgment and after speaking with the owner of the stone it has been destroyed. I doubt Voldemort will be returning to Hogwarts any time soon. Get some rest, Harry."

"Alright Professor, I do have one last question for you though."

"What might that by Harry?" Dumbledore replied quietly.

"Why did I burn Quirrell when I touched him?"

"Ah Harry, that is a very good question, and one I have only a guess at, but I believe it is related to your famous scar." Harry's hand instinctively reached up and touched the mark on his forehead. "When Voldemort came to kill you and your parents, your real parents, Harry, died to defend you. Your mother's own love for you allowed her to place herself between you and a Killing Curse and that caused the curse that was fired at you to rebound and strike Voldemort himself. You were marked with more than a scar that day my dear boy. You were marked with your mother's love. Someone like Quirrell or Voldemort who is so consumed with hate and greed cannot bear to be touched by someone marked with something so pure. I'm proud of your sacrifice if not the result of the actions. You would have made them proud."

Harry was shocked speechless. His human parents had died for him? That was something he never would have expected. Father would and so would Mum. Several of his older siblings had to protect the Pride. To know that they gave their lives for him filled him with a sense of both inner peace and an incurable guilt.

"I believe one hundred points for Gryffindor, for aiding a friend in time of need." Dumbledore quietly said as he left.

oOo

The next day Harry wished he'd stayed in the hospital wing. He had a raging headache and the sneaking suspicion he had forgotten something… EXAMS! Oh no, he'd been revising sure but Hermione was going to have a fit, which she promptly did as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Harry! Where have you been? Are you all right? We asked Professor McGonagall where you were and she wouldn't tell us! Where did you run off to? Did you study?"

"Hermione, give the bloke some time to breath, yeah?" Ron intervened. "Wait a minute! Did you just ask, after three days of us not knowing where he was if he'd studied for exams? Mental that's what that is."

Hermione's shrill voice began to rise in anticipation of an argument. "Ron! Studying is important. Not that you'd know, but our first round of exams are _today!_ I do hope I haven't forgotten anything. Professor McGonagall's so strict. I wonder what she'll ask us to do?"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted, cutting off a very annoyed Ron. "I'm fine. I didn't study because I was unconscious. Don't worry, I'm ok now. Professor Dumbledore came and helped me out."

"But where were you?" She exclaimed.

"Unconscious. Funny thing about that, you don't tend to remember much of anything."

Hermione harrumphed irritated and said louder, "No I mean _where were you_, when you ran off Harry? Hagrid and I looked all over. There are a hundred different deadly things that could kill you in the forest! Why'd you run off like that?"

"Hermione, I don't know if I should tell you this…" Hermione leaned in closer to hear this incredible secret, "But I care about the well-being of animals, especially magical ones. It was a gut reaction at the time and I got lost and then woke up in hospital." Harry replied lamely.

"And that's all you remember is it?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"Yup…" Harry was trying his best to convince her, but lying never came naturally.

"Hermione lay off him. Harry has never lied to us before, why start now?" Ron said casually.

Harry felt his stomach drop into his shoes. Damn that Dumbledore, he shouldn't have to lie to his Pridemates.

"What's the first exam today?"

"Transfiguration, I think. I know you're good, but I do hope you've been studying some."

"No worries then. I've studied for that loads." All my life, Harry thought.

"Hey, our Seeker is back!" Katie Bell observed loudly. Ever since the incident with Norbert the rest of the team had only referred to him as 'Seeker' or 'the Seeker' if they had to mention him at all. Harry's head coolly swivelled to the source of the noise.

"Good, at least we should win the Quidditch match," a burly fifth year commented.

"Won't win the House Cup though, the ickle firsties took care of that," Angelina Johnson commented dully. Agreement was had all around and the initial excitement at their star player's return died down quickly. Breakfast was soon over and the great hall emptied quickly. Passing the hourglasses that recorded House points George was the first one to notice. "Hey! I think these things are defective... we're a hundred points up" Excited whispers broke out around the Gryffindors and speculative whispers passed around the other three. When someone finally asked the assembled lions, 'Hey who did that?' No one knew until a lone first year voice popped up.

"Neville, I heard, for protecting the greenhouses from another troll!" Harry's voice was quickly drowned out by the excited questions and congratulations from his housemates drowned out Neville's protestations that he didn't do anything really.

Walking away, Hermione eyed her friend with a speculative stare. "Harry, why did you lie?"

"What on earth do you mean, Hermione?" Harry said with a spring in his step.

"Neville didn't protect the green houses from a troll. He was revising an essay for Potions with us last night. And as no one else spoke up it only is logical that you're the one who gained a hundred points. Which begs the question... what did you do and why did you give the credit to Neville?"

"First, I can't tell you. Don't look at me like that… Dumbledore made me promise at least for now. Secondly he needed it more than I do."

"What do you mean, mate?" Ron asked quizzically.

"Ron, you didn't actually do anything so no one really blames you. Hermione, I'm sorry it couldn't be you but you're too visible and you have Ron and me. Neville's kind of alone and people still blame him for trying to help us."

"It was a terribly foolish thing to do, Harry," Hermione reminded him.

"And the bravest thing I've seen a Gryffindor do this year Hermione. He's going to do great things."

"Really? Neville? I have never thought of him as a great wizard really." Ron commented.

"Oh ye of little faith. You watch. He'll be there."

The exams seemed to fly by and before he knew it Harry was enjoying the last week of full freedom and the thrill of the win against Ravenclaw, catapulting Gryffindor to win the Quidditch Cup for the first time since Ginny's brother Charlie left. It had been a close match with Gryffindor only edging out Ravenclaw by fifty points even after Harry caught the Snitch. Unfortunately he had to apologise to Professor McGonagall for his unseemly delay. The Snitch had been craftier than it had been in the past.

"Never mind, Mr. Potter, you were a credit to your house and your heritage. You hunted a fine prey." And in that moment between his heart feeling like it would burst with pride, he swore he could almost see the feral grin of an orange tabby.

oOo

"Harry, where're you going mate? The feast is going to start in an hour," Ron queried.

Sniffing on the air Harry quickly replied "Don't worry about it Ron, dinner is going to be a few minutes late today."

"I really wish I knew how you did that Harry…"

"Simple, I have to go see Dumbledore right now and the feast won't start until he gets there," Harry grinned as Ron sighed.

"Well, get a move on, yeah? I'm hungry. By the way, did you ever find the cloak?"

Harry looked guiltily at Ron. "Yeah, it was on my bed with a note pinned to it."

"Well, what did it say, mate?"

"Just in case… Weird huh?"

"Harry, I was thinking…"

"Don't hurt yourself, Ron." Hermione said off-handedly. He shot her a venomous glare.

"ANYHOW! I was thinking maybe you should keep the Cloak. I didn't use it that much this year and with all the trouble you find I think you might need it more than I."

"Thank you, Ron. I think I will. I appreciate the gesture."

"Nothing to thank me for mate, as I said it was always yours."

"I'll see you later. Have to go meet Dumbledore," Harry finished.

Ten minutes later Harry was sitting in one of the headmaster's famously squashy armchairs awaiting some sort of stern fatherly lecture. This really was beginning to be a pattern, except that he hadn't killed anything. Why would Dumbledore want to talk to him now? Let's see… He hadn't killed anything; he hadn't run naked through the castle (he was saving that for when he got home. Damn clothes), and he hadn't had any more encounters with other demonically possessed enchanted teachers. What on earth could the old coot want to talk to him about?

"Harry, I would like to find out what your plans are for this summer," Dumbledore kindly replied.

"Well, sir, I had planned to run naked through the town just as soon as I got home. Finish my homework, visit my Human and spend the rest of the summer enjoying sunbeams, forests and family."

"Ah yes… family the most important of all. It was actually on that subject that I wished to speak with you."

"Oh? Did something happen to them sir?"

"No, no, Harry. In fact, if you did not know you actually do have a set of human relations."

"I see…" Harry said cautiously, not really sure where this was going.

"My boy, it was my intention that you grow up with them. The protection your mother's sacrifice gave you can extend even to the house of your blood relatives, but you would need to return there each summer."

"No, not on your life. My Human and _real_ family need me."

"Harry, I don't believe you understand. While the wizards of the world are basically good there are still many that are not and they would wish to do you harm. We can keep you safe if you will move back in with your mother's relatives. I have found a way to renew the blood wards once they have lapsed but our time is short. It must be done this summer, we can't wait. Don't do disservice to your mother's sacrifice."

"Professor does the term 'lick my paw' mean anything to you?" Dumbledore shook his head. "I believe it is equivalent to a human term that Bill taught me one summer and I think it applies here. Piss off. I have a family that does need me. You couldn't find me until a magical book told you _exactly_ where to look and even then you had a tough time. No dark and scary wizards have showed up trying to kill me and if you EVER try to use the fact of my… human parents' sacrifice as a leverage tool again I daresay you will find it extremely difficult to locate me again. Don't push, professor, I've seen and done more than most students in this school. I will be returning to Arabella's house and I will be living there." Harry then stood abruptly and strode out of the headmaster's chambers.

"Without even a 'by your leave,'" One of the old headmaster's portraits said. "How rude."

Dumbledore sighed. The Kneazle boy was more stubborn than he feared, a trait he would need later, but not now… Either way the boy was intent on returning to his feline family. He was right, though, no one could find him and if he kept a low profile it was likely that Death Eaters wouldn't find him until it was too late for them. He prayed it was so.

"Harry! Over here. You were right; they haven't started the feast yet. What'd Dumbledore want to talk to you about?"

"Ron! Don't be such a prat! Harry will tell us when he's ready," Hermione admonished. "So what did Dumbledore want to talk to you about?" Hermione sagely asked.

Ron's mouth opened and closed a few times resembling a fish out of water as he searched for something to say.

"Nothing much, just wanted to discuss my summer arrangements."

"Oh are you going back to the orphanage?" Ron asked.

"No… I'm actually going to be living with a friend of my parents. You might know her Ron."

"Oh yeah, who?"

"Arabella… Figg."

"Great Aunt Arabella? No way! Harry, you'll be practically next door! You can come over all the time and, well, assuming Mum lets you anyway. I don't think she was too chuffed about your rendition of the full monty this past summer." Ron chuckled, having evidently gotten over the weird idea of it all.

Looking around Harry noticed the decorations were distinctly green and silver. The giant snakes sent a chill up Harry's spine. "Why all the funny decorations?" He asked.

"Harry, honestly, it's the end of term feast. The House Cup gets awarded and we celebrate the house who won. This year it's Slytherin again."

"Emphasis on again, firstie," a scrawny second year sneered at Hermione. She'd been doing so well Harry thought and now he had to ruin it. Locking eyes with Ron they came to a decision. No one was bullying their friend, except maybe for Ron.

Shoulder to shoulder they stood up and walked over to the second year who was no larger than Ron and Harry spoke forcefully, "I'll thank you kindly to leave Hermione alone. I'm not in a very good mood and it seems like you're itching for a fight. You'll find there are more of us than you." Ron merely cracked his knuckles as menacingly as possible which must have worked because the offending student said nothing more.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, now crying in earnest.

"No problem, Hermione," Ron said in a very official manner just loud enough to be heard over the loud grumble of his stomach.

Dumbledore swept into the room on a cloud of purple and stars before finally standing at his place in the professor's table. "Welcome and goodbye. We've had such an eventful year and hopefully your heads are a little bit fuller than they were at the beginning of the year. Now you can have all summer to get them nice and empty again. So… now comes the time to award the House Cup."

Harry looked on eagerly. Finally he might figure out what it all meant. "In fourth place is Hufflepuff with three hundred ten points. In third place Ravenclaw with three hundred eighty seven, in second is Gryffindor with four hundred twelve and this year's winner is Slytherin with an astonishing four hundred fifty four points. Congratulations to all of you for your hard work and perseverance." Harry watched as Draco and his friends pounded their goblets and made loud comments about the superiority of the house of snakes. The cup was a grand gold thing with stones of red, green, blue and yellow embedded throughout.

"Where do they keep that?" Ron asked, with desire dripping from each word.

"In the Head of House's office. Or so says '_Hogwarts a History'_." Hermione hissed back.

The cup was presented to the seventh year prefects and Harry watched as all the Slytherins tried to touch it. There seemed to be something so fantastic about it. In the end though, Harry never found out what charm resided in the golden cup as it was soon taken away by Professor Snape, who Harry could have sworn had given him a gloating smile.

"I wonder what enchantments are on that cup," Harry mused as they were boarding the train bound for King's Cross.

"Why? You thinking about stealing it?" Ron asked much to Hermione's dismay.

"No, but there weren't any treats, or mice, or scantily clad females that popped out but everyone seemed so… enthralled!" Harry wondered aloud as he popped the last of the bag of cat treats in his mouth.

"Umm… couldn't tell you, mate." Ron had discovered that despite his friend's generally quick mind there were just some things you couldn't explain. Not that Ron would try right then. His friend was too distracted. Harry had just jumped up from the seat and stood to the right of the carriage door, when the door suddenly flew open.

Harry felt the oncoming presence of three familiar and unwelcome visitors. Standing to the right side of the door he waited for it to open which it did with much flourish. Harry's hand formed a fist and let it fly, making a painful connection with one Draco Malfoy's recently healed nose. It was going to need healing again, was Harry's thought.

The blond boy stumbled back into his two larger companions, all three wondering how the hell their arch-nemesis was waiting for them. Then the carriage door closed and locked, all without a word being uttered. How did he do that?

Harry smirked the smirk of the victorious. Sitting back in his seat he looked at Ron and Hermione's dumbfounded expressions. "Harry, did you find out what kind of marks you made on exams?" Hermione finally asked to break the tension.

"I did pretty well. Not like you of course Hermione I think you were top of everything. I even managed to squeak by in History of Magic. I can come back next year!" Harry sounded positively delighted.

"No, not best in everything Harry. You beat me in transfiguration."

"I did? Truly?" Harry asked amazed. Truth be told he'd only checked enough to make sure he wasn't being chucked out and beyond that... who cares?

"You did, Harry. How did you do it?" Hermione pleaded. He could see the desperation in her eyes, but he didn't know how to answer.

"Don't know, you might say I cheated..." And he gave a weak chuckle. Hermione looked torn between being outraged at the idea and deciding that Harry was much smarter than he let on. "Ron, c'mon let's play chess!"

After having his tail served to him no less than seven times at the sport of kings, they had arrived at the train station to find only one Mrs. Weasley waiting for them. Looking around expectantly for Arabella, Mrs. Weasley finally spoke up. "Auntie Arabella says she can't come get you today and she asked if I could. You'll be following us home for now dear."

"Thank you, Mum Weasley!" Harry exclaimed much to the surprise of all four redheaded children. "When we get there, do you think you could give this letter to Ginny? I never had a chance to mail it."

Walking with Ron towards the car Harry paid no attention to the stunned expressions of the rest of the family.

"You know, Ron, sometimes I think your family is really weird."

_An: And thus concludes book 1. You know what, I lied. I will start my hiatus now but it may be slightly longer than I anticipated. Wild ride yeah? As I said earlier I will be taking a bit of a hiatus between books 1&2 but never fear I will be working steadily through. This will not be one of those chicken poo stories where I abandon it because of 'real life' feh I spit on real life. I have found that book 2 is slightly harder to write because of some of the ripple effect and the fact that Harry is changing. I don't do change all that well yet. Let me know what you think and punch that big review button! Suggestions, constructive criticism and plot ideas are always welcome. If there is a particular scene you'd love to see let me know and I'll see (no guarantees) if I can work it in._

_To these things you must return- Manatoc Fox_


	12. Summer Escapades

Ch12 Summer Shenanigans

Molly Weasley was walking along the High Street of Ottery St. Catchpole, which consisted of a post office, library, half a dozen shops, police station and a fire station. She had her two youngest children along with her, both putting up a terrible fuss. Not that this was unusual, but what was unusual was that both Ron and Ginny agreed on something. A feat that hadn't occurred in nearly four years and nearly always ended badly for the receiving party.

"But Mum! I promised Harry he'd be able to come over! It's not like he's a stranger, I've known the bloke for the whole year. He's even in Gryffindor!" Ron sputtered.

"Be that as it may Ron, you've only been home two days and I think it best if we just have some family time before we go inviting strangers to live with us for the summer," Mrs. Weasley responded tersely. Ron had been at her most vocally for the past two days to allow Harry to come spend the summer with them. She wasn't at all sure. He seemed like such an odd boy really, and she didn't know him at all apart from their first disastrous meeting last summer. She was also rather uncomfortable with the idea of a boy writing so prolifically with her only daughter who seemed equally enamoured with him. She hoped meeting Harry wouldn't be too much of a shock for Ginny as she vividly remembered the 'wedding' that Ginny had with her pet Kneazle she had named Harry. Ginny had been enamoured with the boy since she was old enough to understand the stories about the Boy-Who-Lived and meeting him in person had the potential to go very badly.

"Please, Mum!" Ginny begged. "If Ron knows him he can't be too bad! I promised he'd be able to come over, too!"

"And when perchance would you have done that, Ginerva?" Mrs. Weasley said annoyed. She didn't like her children promising things without her permission.

"Mum! We're pen pals! You know with Harry Potter! THE Harry Potter."

"GInny he isn't an object he's a boy. Treat him appropriately."

"MUM! Come on... Please!" Ginny whined, turning the sad puppy eyes on her mother.

"Well we'll see. Now what do you want for dinner dears?" Molly said trying to divert the conversation while peering intently at a basket of sprouts.

"Hey! Get him! Stop the little freak. Come back here!" Shouts of teenage outrage poured from the direction of the post office as around the building came a mob of barely teen boys that Ron knew as the local 'gang' of bullies and outpacing them handily came a very, very... naked... Harry. Scratched from head to toe, it looked like the Boy-In-The-Buff had run through a bramble patch prior to treating the town to an eyeful. Molly was shocked... and somewhere in the part of her mind that hadn't shut down she registered that a song was blaring from a stereo the fire fighters had playing while washing the fire appliances.

_centeriHere he comes, look at that, look at that  
There he goes, look at that, look at that  
And he ain't wearin' no clothes_

Oh, yes, they call him the Streak  
Look at that, look at that  
Fastest thing on two feet  
Look at that, look at that  
He's just as proud as he can be  
Of his anatomy  
He goin' give us a peek/center/i

Ohhh... The irony. "Hi Ron, Hi Ginny, Hi Mum Weasley!" With that the green-eyed flash was gone, barely escaping the mob of older boys on his tail. Ron stood shocked and then retroactively jammed his hand over his sister's eyes.

"Ron, gerroff!"

" Ginny this is no sight for a kid!" Ron said authoritatively

"Ron, you're a kid, too!"

"Am not I'm a whole year older than you!"

"Children stop it!" their mother snapped. "You are not going to fight and I seriously doubt that Harry will be coming anywhere near the house this or any other summer!"

Ron shook his head. Sometimes his mother could be so thick. "Mum, it's not like you have much of a choice."

"Ronald Weasley!" She shouted. He scrambled to explain himself.

"No, really Mum. Harry told us he was staying with Auntie Arabella and Uncle Sebastian."

Molly exhaled sharply. She'd been over there just before the children came home to drop off dinner and see her relatives. They hadn't said anything then. She'd need to go confirm it soon. In the meantime, dinner still needed to be prepared and she'd have to work quickly to have it ready when her darling husband returned.

Elsewhere, dinner was being contemplated as well. Harry had eluded his pursuers and changed back to his regular Kneazleness and was currently stalking a rabbit with Merlin. He hoped his brother didn't jump the gun. The orange and white striped Kneazle always was one for being premature.

Eyes fixed and muscles taut Harry slinked forward. The only movement was the gliding of his paws through the tall grass as he silently made his way closer. Being down wind he was able to get within a metre of his prey. He crouched low and in his peripheral vision he could make out his brother doing the same. Harry would go first; Merlin would follow in case he missed, but Harry never missed. Springing swiftly the rabbit never had a chance, the terrified animal's squeals were quickly ended as his sharp teeth punctured the rabbit's throat. Father had always taught them not to let the prey suffer. It was enough that they gave their lives so that Kneazles may live, it wasn't right to play with them like a common house pet. Merlin sauntered over and between the two of them they devoured the rabbit. Rabbit from home still tasted better than rabbits in Scotland. Perhaps it was regional?

"Treats! Come on loves, Treats!" Arabella's high-pitched voice came warbling out from the back porch. The entire Pride knew better than to be late for that! Harry was a little saddened that four of his older siblings were no longer with them. One had gone off to find a mate of his own, one had been killed by a local now-dead dog, and two were hit by cars. Father was most upset about them. Rowenna and Godric were two of the best hunters they had and it had been hard on everyone for a few days, but mostly it was the unnaturalness of it all. They were philosophical about dogs, and going off on one's own to find a mate was a commendable activity, but cars held a special fear for all felines, especially when the drivers intended to hit them.

It warmed his heart to see that three of Mum's kittens from last summer had made it and likely would reach adulthood. Since they were still considered kittens they were given front of the treat line. Then Mum and Father, the older brothers and sisters and finally Harry and his litter mates followed. When he rubbed against Arabella's leg her only reply was, "Not until you're human, Harry. I want to hear all about this year." Harry begrudgingly transformed and sauntered in amongst several of his siblings and a wide eyed Arabella.

"Harry! Where are your clothes?" She asked having finally regained her voice.

"Oh, those. Well, some of the boys in town were throwing rocks at one of the tabbies over by Mrs. Davidson's house and I couldn't stop them being me so I switched to two legs and thrashed one of them and the other five chased me. My clothes got caught on some bramble bushes and bippity boppity boop I was naked and running through town."

Arabella moaned. "Most of the town saw you, I suppose."

"I should think so; I did run into Ron, Ginny and Mum Weasley too," Harry said brightly. "Do you have any more of those loincloths for me? I might be needing some more."

"Harry, please for my sake and Sebastian's, please put on something respectable." Grumbling Harry went upstairs to find something hot and restrictive to put on.

"Boy's got too much fight in him for his own good sometimes. Seeing him reminds me of his mother though. So much passion and fight in such a little package," Sebastian commented from the doorway.

"What are we going to do with him? Molly's been over here and telling me he's been writing to her daughter, little Ginny, all during the school year. Molly already doesn't like the boy because of his incident last year."

"Nothing for it, Bells," Sebastian replied using her nickname from when they were kids. "Some things a boy has to learn on his own. One of those is not to run naked through the town in front of his friend's parents. Important lesson that. Wish I'd learned that earlier." He grinned.

"My dear brother, I do believe that you were rather intoxicated and quite a bit older." Arabella replied exasperatedly.

"Around twenty I should say. It gave both Mary and her mother something to look at," he said with a wink that turned into a sudden fit of sadness.

"Sebastian, are you ok? Is it about Mary?"

"I still miss her, Bells. I do. Twelve years she's been gone and I still wake up thinking she should be there," he said, wiping away unshed tears. A loud bounding down the stairs alerted them to Harry's oncoming presence. The boy was usually so quiet, they were glad for the warning.

"Is this acceptable, Arabella?" Harry asked petulantly.

"Yes dear. Now come into the sitting room and tell us about your year. I hear Miss Weasley was receiving letters all through the term. Not a single one for your old caretaker, eh?"

"Sorry, Arabella. I thought you might be too busy with the rest of the family."

"Harry, the minute I'm too busy for you they'll be singing at my funeral. You are still one of my kittens after all," she said affectionately as she scratched behind Harry's ears. He let out a deep rumble in his chest that could almost be mistaken as a purr. "Now come on in to the sitting room and tell us all about this year. I hear you've had quite an adventure." Settling on to the sofa Harry kneaded the plush fabric for a good thirty seconds. Arabella was happy that the boy had finally taken to sitting properly. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

Harry, for his part, spun a tale of discovery, friendship, danger and ultimately death. He left out only the numbers of detentions and the fact that he didn't attend more than four or five History of Magic lessons the entire year by his count. With each minute his story went from unique, to wild, to wholly unbelievable. After thirty minutes both Arabella and Sebastian were staring at him with dumbfounded looks of incredulity on their faces.

"So please let me understand Harry. You made friends, likely passed all your lessons, became the youngest Seeker in a century, fought and killed a mountain troll, befriended a unicorn herd, smuggled a dragon out of the country, and managed to fight and defeat a vessel of the most evil wizard this century all before your twelfth birthday?" Arabella finally asked.

"We also won the Quidditch Cup," Harry said brightly as he popped another treat in his mouth savoring the delectable combination of liver and cheese. That's really what this world needed was a never ending treat bag. It would be much more useful than any old stone for gold.

"Harry m'boy if you were anyone else I'd have told you to shove off halfway through, but I think you're telling the truth and it scares me to no end. What was Dumbledore thinking? He had to have known what that professor was! If not at first then surely at some point the man had to have shown the signs! Dammit, I hope Albus isn't losing his edge."

Sebastian's rant was cut short when a loud rapping on the door was heard and Arabella rose stiffly, displacing several of her Kneazles, to go see who would be calling on them this afternoon. "Molly! So good to see you, do come in. Something I can get for you?"

"No, thank you Auntie, but I did come to check on something rather important."

"Oh? Something we can help you with, Molly?"

"Yes, you see, Ron had said that Harry Potter was living with you now and I do believe I saw him running rather indecently through the town this afternoon. I thought I would check and let you know at the same time if it turned out to be true."

"Yes, we know and yes, he is. It seems he had a bit of a confrontation with some of the in town boys and his clothes were sacrificed to a bramble bush somewhere. He's better now, but I do apologise for any ermmm... damage to your sensibilities."

"Oh... Well then." This was clearly not the reaction Molly was expecting from her aunt. There was no passion or fire behind her words, merely a kind of slow acceptance. She felt something rub past her legs and when she looked down there was a medium sized Kneazle doing the figure eight around her ankles. Rubbing face, side and tail as though to mark completely that this was one of his. She bent down and picked up the feline and looked intently at his green eyes. There was something familiar there; she just couldn't place what it was. The rest of him was as black as coal except for the curious white patch above his eye, shaped almost like a lightning bolt.

"What did you name this one?" Molly asked.

"Harry." Arabella replied.

"As in Harry Potter?"

"Well, yes, all my Kneazles are named after famous witches and wizards. There is hardly one more famous than Harry except possibly Merlin."

"Auntie, I shouldn't think... What does the real Harry think of his namesake here?"

"Oh, they're quite close as I understand it. Practically inseparable most times," Sebastian said with a twinkle in his eye. Harry made a mental not to make sure no copyright laws were broken when Sebastian stole the twinkle from the Headmaster. Better to make sure no eyes were broken either.

Squirming enough to voice his demands Harry was gently set down on the floor where he left the adults to discuss his human self in privacy. He had much more important things to attend to and approaching the speed of sound Harry hit the kitty door and was gone over the fields towards his second home and _his_ Human.

Her delighted squeals were music to his furry ears and his tail was held high like a drum major conducting a fine parade. When your human wants to see you as much as she obviously did, Kneazle pride called for only one course of action, strut... Harry strutted over to his red-haired pet like the cock of the walk. "Harry! I'm so glad you came back! Mum said you'd gotten hit by a car, but I knew you were much too clever for any of that. Where were you? Oh never mind, we've got the whole summer together. Can I tell you a secret?"

"Merow?"

"Hehe, of course I can." She giggled. "I'm friends with Harry Potter! The Harry Potter! You remember the one from the story books I used to read you. He'll be coming over to see me, well, Ron and me this summer. I'm sure of it. Then you'll finally get to meet your namesake! I'm so excited," the young girl gushed as she picked Harry up and rolled back on her bed, settling him across her chest. Lord this was a long Kneazle. He must've grown when she hadn't seen him she was sure of it!

"Prrrrttt! Merowwowow." Harry intoned, followed by a deep unending rumble. It was best to be in the tender ministrations of his human. She always knew where to scratch and not to pet too hard and she almost always had a special treat lying around for him. That's why she was allowed to pick him up and swing him around and why he didn't get too terribly upset when she dressed him up in clothes and pretended to marry him. It was just part of the symbiotic Kneazle-pet relationship.

"Oh, I don't know, Harry. I suppose he's brave and handsome and I bet he has the most beautiful green eyes. I've only seen him the once. We wrote to each other all this year and he told me all the things he was doing. Like being the Seeker for Gryffindor, youngest in a century! Can you imagine? He and Ron even beat a mountain troll!" she said with wonder then continued in a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't tell anyone, but Harry even told me that they smuggled a dragon out of the Astronomy Tower to some of Charlie's friends. He said they got caught, though, and lost loads of points. I hope he didn't get in too much trouble. He even said he'd take me to meet with the unicorns next year! Isn't that exciting! I've never seen a unicorn before. Oh, I can't wait to see him. I'm so anxious!"

Harry at this point had righted himself enough to comfortingly ram his head into her hand and let her know everything was going to be ok. "I know it will be all right. That doesn't stop a girl from being nervous, though. What if he doesn't like me after all?" Harry's eyes locked with hers. That was exceedingly unlikely.

oOo

"But MUM!" Ginny whined.

"I said I'd think about it young lady and that is the best you're going to get. I'm not at all sure about this young man even if he is Ron's friend! Where did the Kneazle come from?"

"Mum, Harry's been with me for nearly nine years now. We've gone everywhere. This is just the first time you've allowed him in the kitchen. I think he came from Auntie Arabella's house."

"Well, it's best he not be in the house. He could have fleas or worms. I won't have it getting you sick." A low growl emanated from Harry's chest that seemed to reverberate throughout the otherwise quiet kitchen. The twins were in their room doing god knows what, Ron was sleeping and Ginny was sure Percy was somewhere doing something important.

"Mum, it's been three weeks and we haven't heard from him! You haven't even let me go to Aunt Arabella's! It's not fair!"

"Young lady it is high time you learned the world in its infinite wisdom is not fair. Until I have a more favourable impression of the boy you will NOT be cavorting about with him unsupervised."

"Mum, if you don't meet him you can't get to know him!" Ginny responded, her temper flaring to match her mother's. "Beside that he's Ron's friend too! Are you going to punish him as well! Right, Ron?" she exclaimed at a recently woken Ron who had just made the trip down the stairs. However, instead of responding, he turned around and hurried quickly back to the safety of his room and away from the inevitable fight of two equally matched Weasley women. Ginny merely muttered something that sounded like 'coward'.

Mrs. Weasley was not to be dissuaded by logic, however, and began a tirade against indecency in society, Harry's general proclivity for a lack of clothes and culminated with the ever popular 'you'll understand when you have children of your own!' Throughout, Harry's finely tuned Kneazle senses picked up the emotional distress of his Human. While his logical human side of his brain told him he would be better off to beat feet up the stairs and spend the day curled up in a sunbeam, but Harry's Kneazleness wouldn't allow that kind of dishonour. Fortunately, the feral snarl he let loose cut through Molly's rant ending whatever else she had to say on the subject of public nudity and pre-teens prematurely. Staring down at the Kneazle in front of her, despite her superior size and magical potential, she still felt rather like a gazelle on the receiving end of a lion's maw.

"Fine, he can come over tomorrow for one hour! If he's not on his best behaviour or I see him in less than full dress... family or no that boy will wish he'd never set foot in my house. Now just get that blasted Kneazle out of here!" Sensing the win Harry sprinted out of the kitchen by way of the table and an open window making sure to put on paw through the crust of a bramble pie just for good measure, and to ensure he had something tasty for the walk home.

_i__Dear Harry, I know this seems silly with you living not two miles away, but Mum won't let me come over and talk to you even with Auntie Arabella there. Mum says you can come over, but only for a bit. Let me know if you want to. I told Ron I'd ask for both of us. Mum is 'worried' about you being a bad influence on us or something. I don't know, it doesn't make sense to me. Send back a reply with Errol, please!_

_Sincerely, Ginny/i_

Ten minutes later Ginny was reading the note that Harry sent.

_i__Of Course. Silly Mum. /i_

_Sincerely, Harry _

The hour the Boy-Who-Lived spent in The Burrow was so confusing it nearly blew Mrs. Weasley's head to bits. He was polite, but strangely informal, energetic but slow moving with the occasional bout of hyperactive explosiveness. His protectiveness of her daughter was strange. He walked half a pace behind her and to her left always. His eyes never stopped moving and she suspected if he had ears they'd be twitching the way his head kept cocking to the side.

Molly had thought to herself perhaps that was simply what he did with new people or even her family, but much to her dismay he only seemed to display these tendencies with Ginny. She observed him wrestling with Ron, giving the twins a hard time and helping all of her younger children hassle Percy just shy of causing real problems. It was like he'd been living here for years and she'd never noticed. When it came to Ginny though… he was caring, protective and seemingly understood her better than her own mother! Now there was some of this to be expected. After all, they did spend the entire spring term writing letters back and forth. The familiarity of the boy with her house, though, was exceedingly unnerving. If they were five years older she would be convinced that he'd been having romantic trysts with her daughter on the kitchen table. She smiled involuntarily at several choice memories of her, a seventeen year old Arthur, and a very different kitchen table.

There was nothing more that Molly could do, she realized. Harry had, all things considered, been as well behaved as she could expect any of her own children to be. She realized this wasn't setting the bar all that high, but he refrained from profanity, crude jokes and kept all his clothes on. What more could a mother ask for in her son's friends?

Unfortunately, this brought around a second train of thought. Harry the strange-child-who-lived-and-was-adopted-by-family… (whew what a mouthful!) was not merely Ron's friend, but seemed equally connected to Ginny. That did worry Molly. It simply didn't seem natural for a boy his age to want to spend all his time hanging around his best mate's younger sister.

Much to her chagrin, Ginny seemed equally enamoured with The-Boy-Who-Lived. Molly had known that her daughter had a fantasy crush on Harry Potter for years. The idea, if not the reality, of the actual person had been her childhood crush. Molly had allowed Ginny's letters back and forth with the boy because she hoped it would break the childhood fantasy if she saw he was a real person, but the depth of understanding (one no eleven-year-old boy should possess) merely heightened the interest. So much so that Ginny had gotten so excited she accidentally put her elbow in the butter while asking him if he'd like anything to eat. Harry had politely refused, calmly pointed out her current predicament and merely taken to munching on what Mrs. Weasley had thought was a bag of cat treats.

However, as Ron put it so easily, she had better get used to the idea of Harry being around in some fashion. Not only did he seem to be friends with two of her children and not totally unacquainted with another three, but he was living less than two miles away. She supposed he would be around for some time.

oOo

The summer was passing satisfactorily, Harry decided. He was catching mice and playing with his siblings. He'd been visiting The Burrow regularly on both two legs and four, flying when on two and sneaking through the house to steal sweets for Ginny when on four. He learned more about chess from Ron and wondered what the twins were up to. Harry thought it odd he hadn't seen Ron's rat all summer, but perhaps that was due to his renewed four-legged activities at The Burrow.

It was a fine evening just before supper as Harry sauntered over to the burrow with his tail held high. He'd helped Agrippa chase a dog away from the corn crib this morning, but the dog had been naturally skittish which prevented its untimely demise. All was right with the world.

Jumping up on the kitchen windowsill he peered in and saw the typical scene, except no Ginny. "Dear, if you're looking for her I've sent her into town to pick up some juice for dinner. You'll have to come back later. Merlin! Look at me talking to a cat like he can understand me." Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.

Disgruntled, Harry jumped off the window sill and began to follow Ginny's scent trail into town. Not too difficult as fresh as it was. Sauntering forward Harry enjoyed the scent of fear from the local dogs. They had learned the large kitties that occasionally flaunted themselves through town were not to be trifled with.

Harry's acute triangular ears heard an acute disturbance around the next corner. Likely Mrs. Kay arguing with the butcher again, but the magical signature… GINNY! Was all he could think. Sprinting around the corner was the stuff of any Kneazle's nightmares. There were three of the local 'gang' and they were standing in a semi-circle in front of a crying Ginny. She was sitting on the ground with a broken bottle of lemonade slowly spilling out around her.

The boys were laughing, laughing at HIS human and her tears. Nothing was quite so heart-wrenching as that moment and it filled Harry with a deep inner hate. He didn't remember transforming, and he didn't remember picking up the piece of pipe poking out of the garbage can. Harry's only memories even years later were of leading a distraught Ginny home. She never saw him transforming into a human, and she never questioned where he came from, but he could feel the question right behind her eyes.

"Ginny, dear!" Molly exclaimed as they walked slowly in the door. Ginny had a black eye that was puffy and red and her dress was torn a little. Her lip was leaking a slow trickle of blood. Although not totally needed, Harry was helping her in the door to maintain contact and assure himself his human was still in one piece if nothing else. Harry didn't look much better, as though both were on the receiving end of some rather nasty attention.

"What happened?"

"Mum…" Ginny sniffled. "Some of the big boys in the town cornered me when I was buying juice and they kind of roughed me up." It was apparent she was valiantly holding back tears.

"Those boys! They're a menace like their older brothers. Bill had a few run-ins with them years ago. I'd hoped their parents had learned better discipline. I'll have to go talk to their parents I suppose. Those boys can't be allowed to run amok."

"Not necessary, Mum Weasley," Harry replied. A proud if slightly vindictive smirk crossed the boy's face.

"Of course it's necessary, Harry! We can't have them doing this to younger children. It's simply not right!" Her fury was beginning to build now, a dangerous sight for anyone who knew Molly Weasley.

"Oh, they won't be doing anything for awhile. I took care of them." Molly swore she heard him mutter "No one hurts my human and gets away with it."

"What do you mean 'took care' of them?"

"I thrashed them black and blue, Mum Weasley. I doubt they'll be moving much in the next few days let alone hassling human kittens." The significance of his statement dawned on Molly just as not two miles away a policeman was calling on Arabella Figg.

"Mrs. Figg? I'm Sergeant Gilbert from the Catchpole Police Station. Is a Mister… Potter here today?"

"No, I'm afraid he's out at the moment," Arabella replied cautiously. Their house didn't have any Muggle Repelling charms like The Burrow, due to the emphatically less magical nature of the dwelling. Sometimes she wondered if that was such a good thing though. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm afraid not, Mrs. Figg. Young Mr. Potter was believed to be involved in an incident earlier today and we need to question him. Three boys are in hospital today and we need to find out how."

"Oh dear… Well, if we see him again, we'll be sure to let you know."

"Thank you, Mrs. Figg. How are the cats coming along then?"

"Oh quite well, Officer. Growing like weeds. They had another litter last summer. We're very excited."

"Glad to hear it. Good day then."

After the officer shut the door, a very tired-looking Sebastian walked around the corner. "Harry's in trouble again eh? No surprise there. Looks like I'm going to have to have a talk with him. We won't always be able to protect him. I'll fetch him home."

Ten minutes later after coaxing and threatening a very harried-looking Harry away from an equally distraught Ginny and flooing him home they were firmly entrenched in two very comfortable arm chairs.

"Harry," Sebastian began in the best impersonation of his father he could muster. "What happened today in town? The police were looking around for you and they said you were involved in an… altercation. Care to tell me about that?"

"Of course! Well, I went over to The Burrow to find Ginny, but Mum Weasley told me she was out at the shops. So I scented her there and when I got there, some of the boys that chased me a few days ago were laughing at her. They'd hurt her! Really hurt her Sebastian! I just got so angry."

"Then what?" He prodded gently.

"I don't really remember. I just sort of blanked out. I think I was human and I remember hitting them with something. It's all just so difficult to remember."

"Hmmm… Let me tell you what did happen, Harry. At least according to some other people who were there, you attacked three boys with a pipe."

"Oh, well that clears that up. Always a nuisance when I can't remember who I did what to."

"They're in hospital, Harry," Sebastian intoned. He was clearly worried about the lack of emotional response from his charge.

"Good. Then they won't be hurting Ginny any more. Can I go hunting now?"

"No!" Sebastian stated firmly. "Harry, I'm not your Father on four legs or two but Arabella and I've consented to taking you into our house so I bear a burden to help you become the best person you can be."

"Kneazle."

"Excuse me?"

"The best Kneazle I can be."

"And that, son, is the crux of the matter. Firstly you don't need me to help you be a good Kneazle. Kneazles are good all on their own. Secondly you aren't just a Kneazle any longer. You bear an allegiance to two worlds."

"Sebastian, I am a Kneazle trapped in a human body. Mum and Father took me in and raised me and I thank you for being there to help me but I don't need help being a better _person_." Harry spat the word.

"Ah, Harry, but are you simply a Kneazle?"

"Of course."

"How many of your brothers and sisters can do magic Harry?"

"Well, none, you know that."

"And can you do magic with a wand and without?"

"Yes, I did well in most of my subjects."

"Ahh subjects. Do Kneazles study?"

"We learn with Mum and Father and the older Pride members. You know all this Sebastian. I know Arabella told you all of this. She even wrote it down for you."

"So you can read, then?"

"YES! What's the point?"

"The point is, Harry, you can read, do magic and have a far greater predilection for learning than any other Kneazle I've ever met. You have so many… human characteristics, wouldn't you agree? I'm not saying you are any less a Kneazle, but perhaps you are more than just a four-legged protector of we poor humans. You've been granted a chance for great things I think. Don't waste your gift, Isis wouldn't like it."

Harry drew a sharp gasp at her name. "And you think she granted me this… ability to better help my Pride?"

"No, Harry, I think you've been given a gift to help everyone. Your two-legged side and your furry side must merge and then you'll be one of the most powerful wizards ever. You helped the unicorns without a second thought. Would a Kneazle have risked himself alone for that? The others risked themselves because you are one of them and you gave your support, but not purely for the sake of helping another. You told me the forest belongs to the Kneazle, and all creatures within were part of their protection. Does that apply to the Grindylow or the Acromantula? No, and you know it. They risked themselves for you and you risked because you love. You have an awesome capacity for self-sacrifice and love that is definitely human Harry. However, you have an equal capacity for darkness, an equal human trait."

"I don't understand what this has to do with anything, Sebastian!" Harry was getting frustrated and when he was frustrated… things tended to go badly.

"Just this, if you accept that you are part human, which you most certainly are, then you accept the fact that you can do so much more than you've ever dreamed to help not only your Pride but Kneazles, humans and magical animals everywhere. However, you need to remain vigilant against succumbing to the traits of human darkness and evil. I know what you thought you did was right today, but let me ask. Was Ginny truly hurt? Were they going to kill her? Did they have large teeth and see her for dinner?"

"Well, no… I don't think so."

"Then why did you nearly kill them? Believe me Harry if they hadn't been so much larger than you that very well could have happened. Would a Kneazle kill for no reason?"

"Certainly not! I wasn't intending to kill them… I don't think. They hurt my human!"

"Harry, whether you intended to or not, the fact is you almost did. This is the darkness within yourself you need to be vigilant with my boy. Not everything need be settled with maximum force. In fact sometimes it is far better to settle it without any at all. And you certainly can't simply go around killing everything that upsets you, Harry."

"I told you, they hurt my human."

"Nothing a few days rest won't cure. What they may have wounded irreparably was your ego, a dangerous thing for a Kneazle to have. Wouldn't you agree? When you start going hunting thinking no dog can touch you that sounds like a recipe for trouble"

"Yes, sir…" Harry hung his head because it was true. "I don't understand. You said it is better to settle things without force. When? Dogs don't learn by running away!"

"I never said they did. But when your Father stares a stray tom down and fluffs his fur and growls in a way that gives me shivers… That tom runs off, doesn't he?" Harry nodded. "Did he need to kill the tom? Risk injuring himself? If he fought every two bit tomcat that came into the area he might be truly injured when something that needed his attention was there. Fighting isn't always the answer, please remember that."

Harry nodded dumbfounded. It made sense. Is that what the nearsighted purple clad Kneazle molester was trying to tell him all along? Why didn't he just say so! Dumb humans, well not all of them. Sometimes he was almost proud to be related to them. Related yeah, that had to be it. He wasn't a true human. Related…

And chanting this motto to himself, Harry sauntered off to work out some cerebral frustrations through the good old-fashioned sport of mouse hunting.

_AN: UPDATE MAN! Strikes earlier than anticipated. I hate waiting to post almost as much as you hate waiting to read. I'm about five or so chapters ahead now so I thought this would be a good time. I was planning for April but I'm getting the hang of this faster than anticipated. So question of the AN a poll of sorts. Would you be interested in reading an American Harry story? I intend it to be a Romance/Comedy adventure. Focusing both on cannon story line but also on the amazing differences (as I see them) between two very similar countries. Just a question. Never fear this will continue to receive updates. This plot bug is rolling about. As usual this would likely be a Harry/Ginny story because let's face it she's awesome._


	13. Don't Kill, Don't Kill

Ch13 Don't Kill, Don't Kill.

"Bells?" Sebastian called, his deep baritone ringing through the house.

"In here brother. Just fixing supper," Arabella replied.

"I don't know why you do that by hand. I can swish and flick, and have it done in a jiffy."

"I like doing it this way. I think too many proper wizards forget the essentials. What if you don't have your wand? These sorts of skills need to be taught to youngsters today."

"What are we having then?"

"Steak, mashed potatoes and asparagus."

"Ben's favorite. Why today, Bells?"

Arabella whirled and buried her face in a dishtowel to try and staunch the tears. "Today's his birthday Sebastian. I always made it for him, then." Her brother walked slowly towards her and drew his sister into a comforting hug. Life had never quite turned out the way either of them planned. His wife Mary, a powerful and dangerous witch in her own right, had been killed twelve years ago during the height of Voldemort's power. His sister's husband, Ben, had been killed in a steel accident nearly thirty years ago, the steel spooler had kicked sideways and the still hot sheet had cleanly removed his head. They'd only been married for four years and she had never gotten over losing him. It came out most painfully in times like this.

"Shhh... Shhhh... It's going to be alright. I'm here now," Sebastian said rocking his sister back and forth.

"Oh dear, what am I on about? Dinner's about to burn and Ben never would have forgiven me for that!" Arabella finally squeaked rushing around the kitchen frantically trying to stay busy to keep the tears at bay once again. "How did the police interview go?"

"Oh, fine, fine. I was able to finally convince the inspector that Harry had been acting in Miss Weasley's defense. Not that it will be allowed to pass again. Good thing the boy didn't use magic, that is all I can say or we'd be having a very different conversation."

"Oh, so no need to Obliviate him?"

"No, no need. He did finally see it my way... after only a minor Confundus Charm. It only took that and the past two weeks to get the whole mess sorted."

"Sebastian, are you sure it is right of us to keep the boy out of trouble? How will he learn if we keep bailing him out?"

"Arabella, how do we hold him accountable for doing what he felt was right? The boy's mind is more Kneazle than human, you know that. You and I both know that any Kneazle would have reacted very similarly to the situation. Perhaps not with the same level of aggression, but Harry is a special case. He isn't truly vindictive or evil; he just needs some good advice, time to adjust and strong parenting. How would we inform the police that he's a cat trapped in a boy's body? I think this is for the best. If it becomes a problem in the future we'll deal with it. Where is he anyway? I'd hoped we could all eat together today."

"Oh... He's out with Molly and her brood likely buying school supplies I suppose. I thought it might be best for just us. I didn't know what kind of mood you'd be in when you got back from dealing with the inspector." She shrugged.

"Oh well. I suppose one can't have everything one wants. It does smell delicious."

Elsewhere Harry was having a very different sort of time. It had been a long day and Harry was willing it to be over. At Arabella's request and Ginny's insistence Harry had been invited along with the Weasley clan to go shopping for school supplies in Diagon Alley. It had been somewhat of an unmitigated disaster. Harry had missed the Floo exit, never having travelled that way before, been trapped in a seedy shop while one Mr. Malfoy conducted nefarious business and his ferret of a son whined about Hermione and Harry. Making it through Knockturn Alley as a Kneazle had been a challenge as people kept trying to scoop him up and hustle him into back doors of restaurants that never saw a health inspector. Finally, he was reunited with the Weasleys, united for the first time with Hermione and her parents and managed to not get lost in the brief trip up the marble stairs to the only wizarding bank in Britain. After another harrowing trip through Gringotts they set out for the wild world of shopping.

"New robes for Ginny, and a cauldron plus potion ingredients." Harry's acute ears kept picking up the distressed murmurings of one Molly Weasley regarding her lack of monetary capability to provide for all her children. Harry had often thought it must be difficult to be a human parent with all the different things they had to provide. Kneazles had it easier in many respects. Food, shelter, water, and protection were the only requirements that Father had ever seen fit to provide. Humans on the other hand! So much for the same result. So, since Harry had grasped slightly better the concept of money since his crash course in economics with Hagrid last summer, he had decided to make a game of it. It would keep his mind off the stares and whispers and help improve his manual dexterity. What could accomplish all of that? Harry had taken to trying to slip Galleons into Molly's purse when no one was looking. Thus far he had succeeded eighteen times. He thought Ginny had seen him once but she seemed either oblivious to his intentions or polite enough to not tell on him. The latter trait was a huge reason as to why he'd adopted her. At the moment though, they were heading for a large crowd inside Flourish and Blotts bookstore.

"The entire collection of Gilderoy Lockhart? Oh my..." Mrs. Weasley trailed off. Harry could hear her murmuring. "How much do we have left, seven eight, nine, ten Galleons. Why we had ten before we left Madam Malkin's. What is going on? I must be getting soft in my age." As all men learn at some point one never comments out loud on a witch's age, positively or no. Looking up a large sign proclaimed the reason for the crowd. Gilderoy Lockhart it seemed would be giving away signed copies of his autobiography _Magical Me_.

"Oh do you think we'll get to meet him?" Hermione squealed.

"Who cares?" Harry replied irritably. He hated crowds; people were forever stepping on your tail that way.

"But Harry, he wrote almost the entire booklist! He's brilliant really!"

"No one who attracts this kind of a crowd is brilliant Hermione. I just want to buy our books and leave." Harry snapped. The confined spaces were starting to get to him. Moving along the shelves he began to pick up the books one by one. When Harry saw Ginny rummaging around in a cauldron marked 'Used and Abused, Sixty Percent Off!' he grabbed her elbow and steered her firmly to the 'New and Pristine' section.

"Harry! Mum can't afford this! Not with all my brothers' things too!"

"How much are the books? Exactly?"

"Umm... Three Galleons, twelve Sickles and four Knuts."

"Make it an even four and get yourself something nice." Harry smiled even as Ginny stammered and turned beet red. She'd been doing better around him since the onset of the summer but occasionally she would turn red and go quiet for no reason Harry could discern.

"Harry!" she whispered, "I can't take this! Mum would go spare thinking I was taking advantage of you!"

Harry merely smiled. "I've been slipping Galleons into Mum's purse since we arrived. I don't think she'll be able to say too much after that." Ginny looked awestruck.

"Well, I know you were the once, but how many... exactly?" She asked as Harry finished placing the rest of the books in her cauldron and began forcing their way back towards the mass of assorted Weasleys and Grangers.

"Eighteen or so. It's been great fun." Harry grinned at her shocked expression.

"Eighteen! Harry, you'll need that for later!"

"No, I think I have plenty. There are all sorts of piles of the stuff underground in my vault. I don't think it is really as valuable as everyone says. It confounds your mum so why not?" Harry finished as a forty-something burly man backed into him.

"Hey kid! Watch where you're going?"

"Of course, but I wasn't the one who backed into me. Perhaps you should turn around to see where you are walking," Harry suggested.

"Who do you think you are, you little bastard?" The man raged, obviously slightly pissed.

Harry missed both the sarcasm and the underlying threat. Reading foreign humans still wasn't one of his specialties. "I think I'm Harry Potter. One never can be too sure though. Last year I thought I was a Kneazle," he replied. The sudden commotion had attracted the attention of many people in the book shop including its star for the day.

"Harry Potter! My Lord!" Gilderoy Lockhart exclaimed, as he jumped forward to drag Harry to the front of the store and put his arm around the boy in a show of familiarity Harry was not at all comfortable with.

'Don't kill... Don't kill... he's not threatening Ginny, Don't kill... Don't Kill...' Became Harry's mental mantra. He tried to smile but he came out looking badly constipated.

"Ladies and gentlemen when young Mr. Potter set foot in this shop here today it was merely to purchase a signed copy of my autobiography _Magical Me_, which he will now be getting free of charge along with the rest of my book list. Little did he realize that he and all his classmates will be getting the real magical me this September! I am pleased to officially announce that I will be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts for this coming year." The sudden flash of cameras and slew of questions took Harry by surprise. "Smile, Harry, between the two of us it's worth the front page." The blond man whispered carefully.

'Don't kill... Don't kill...' Harry finally managed to disentangle himself and found himself carrying the entire works of Lockhart which he was only too happy to drop into Ginny's cauldron. "You take them," he mumbled, obviously embarrassed at all the attention.

"Bet you loved that didn't you, Potter?" a familiar voice sneered. Harry whirled around and came face to face with one Draco Malfoy. "Famous Potter, can't even walk into a bookstore without getting a pat on the back."

"Leave him alone he didn't ask for that!" Ginny exclaimed, her little hands balling into fists.

"Oh, who's this Potter, your girlfriend?" Malfoy chuckled at his own joke.

'Don't kill… don't kill, remember Sebastian's warning, and don't kill.' Harry's mantra kicked in again, his mind furiously spinning to try to deal with the perceived trespasser. Harry reviewed his options: one, kill the ferret, two acknowledge a relationship (even if non-existent) and get killed by Ginny's brothers, three threaten and or reply with snarky comeback. Door three, please, Isis.

"Malfoy, if you're looking for a bitch in heat try your mum. I hear she's on sale this week," Harry replied smugly. If Draco's enraged face was anything to go by Harry was getting better at this whole insult thing. George and Fred had been coaching him, and along with some unobtrusive observation of the older neighbourhood boys, Harry had picked up quite the repertoire. He was still trying to figure out what went with what but he was getting better. Improvement was always a good thing.

"Potter, don't you dare talk about my mother that way." Malfoy hissed, his body language reading much more aggressively.

"Then leave Ginny alone. Now go sex somebody else's leg, mudface." Not the best he could have done, Harry reflected, but not bad.

"Boys, not starting trouble are we?" The fatherly tones of Arthur Weasley came suddenly from behind Harry drawing both boys' and Ginny's attention.

"No Mr. Weasley. If we were starting trouble I'd be pounding the smarmy git into his own shoes," Harry said pleasantly with an evil grin towards said recipient of the imaginary pounding. Most people wouldn't have noticed Draco blanch, as pale as the boy was, but Harry never counted as most people.

Suddenly, any further verbal sparring was stalled between the youngsters as one Lucius Malfoy strode purposefully up to his son's side. Everyone in the room could have sworn the temperature dropped at least two degrees.

"Arthur."

"Lucius."

"I do hope they are paying you extra for all those raids. What is the point of being a disgrace to Wizardkind if they don't even pay you for it? Then again, perhaps not," he said gesturing to the state of the robes Ginny and Ron were wearing.

"We have a very different view of what makes a disgrace to Wizard kind Lucius." Arthur rebuked.

"Clearly." The senior Malfoy then reached into Ginny's open cauldron ignoring the low rumble emanating from Harry's chest. "Really Arthur, a man of your position should hardly be stealing from a book shop. The second hand ones are over there."

It took only a second for Mr. Weasley to leap over Ginny's cauldron and slam full force into the elder Malfoy. Harry watched with anticipation as fisticuffs were exchanged and both men went tumbling, knocking over displays and the occasional bookshelf. Ginny appeared worried, Ron and the twins were ecstatic, and Percy merely had on a disapproving scowl.

Harry glanced sideways and saw his arch nemesis was as engrossed in the fatherly dispute as the rest of the shop so Harry took a chance. Leaning to his right he braced his right leg in an effort to spring, drew his right hand back, planted his left leg firmly and… POP! delivered a stunning blow to Malfoy Junior's nose. Judging from the loud crack and the profuse blood now seeping out it was apparent that it was broken. Whistling innocently, Harry's eyes roamed around the shop making contact with anything but his most recent victim of aggression as he idly wondered if there were any long-term effects from having your nose broken and reset repeatedly.

Ginny for her part merely gave him an appreciative smile followed by a sad pout when Hagrid stepped in to break up the parental brawl. Standing up straight and dusting himself off Mr. Malfoy shoved the new textbook back into her cauldron. "Keep it girl, you'll be living on bread and water for a month after what that cost them. Come Draco." He strode away without even a backwards glance.

"Yeh shouldn't have let him get to yeh, Arthur. Bad blood the lot of 'em. Everyone knows it," Hagrid chided.

"Indeed, brawling in a public place! At least try to set a good example for the children," Molly further admonished. She continued her tirade until he looked suitably contrite and then turned her ire on Ginny.

"Ginevra Weasley! Where did you get these textbooks? They're practically brand new! How are we supposed to pay for them?" She continued in only slightly subdued tones.

"Ummm… Mum, well you see it's like this…" Ginny stammered, not really sure what to say.

"I bought them for her, Mum Weasley. A birthday present, if somewhat belated," Harry supplied cheerfully.

"Well, that's very thoughtful dear, but I'm sure the secondhand ones are just as suitable. We'll just have to take them back and…"

"You'll do no such thing. To refuse a gift is a great insult. I don't think you're the type of mother to insult her children's friends," Harry loved that line. Ginny had heard it on one of her mother's wireless programmes two years ago and it stuck with him ever since. Molly Weasley, for her part, could do nothing but sputter incoherently at the brazen nature of the boy in front of her. Luckily for all involved they avoided a full blown meltdown when Arthur placed his hand gently on his wife's shoulder and confirmed that it wouldn't hurt to let the boy do this. She shot her husband a venomous glare, but said nothing further.

"Come on now children, I think we've all had quite enough excitement for today," Arthur said and hurried the entire brood back towards the Leaky Cauldron.

oOo

Harry had finally taken Arabella's advice and tried once again to sleep in a bed as a human. She said it would help him get accustomed once again to pretending to be human. She figured her boy, as she'd taken to thinking of him, needed all the help he could get. Harry for his part would much rather stay under the corn crib, but he couldn't live there forever and this year HIS human would be attending Hogwarts and in his house! If she were in any other he vowed to personally remove every inch of stitching from the damned hat.

Lying back on his bed he extended his hands up into the darkness, fantasising about the possibility of kneading his claws into the disloyal hat, when Harry heard a pop and felt a small yet solid object drop onto his chest. Making eye contact he discovered that it was a visitor with large bulbous eyes and floppy ears. A house-elf he was sure of it. He'd heard Mum Weasley talk about them enough. Ginny had even asked what one was and the description fit this rodent perfectly. In truth he did look like a rodent, but not the delicious kind, just another disease infested rat.

The rat was twisting his hands fearfully and was clad in what appeared to be a dirty pillowcase. "Mister Harry Potter sir?" The elf squeaked. Harry merely nodded.

"It has been such a hard time to find you! I has come with a message, a warning for you sir. You must not return back to Hogwarts! Not at all. There is much danger for you there."

Sitting up abruptly pushed the small elf off his bed and he fell unceremoniously to the floor. "Ummm… danger right. What's your name again?"

"Dobby Mister Harry Potter! You is a great wizard for asking! Most wizards would not bother with the name of a lowly house-elf!"

"Most wizards wouldn't bother with a lot of things it seems, so there you have it. I don't suppose I've ever been like a lot of wizards. Now Dobby, what are you going on about?"

"Harry Potter sir, you must not return to Hogwarts this year! There is much danger, too much! A plot is afoot!" At this the elf's eyes went wide and he began banging his head against the wall.

"Dobby!" Harry commanded sharply, channeling every ounce of his father. "Stop that at once! I will not have you injuring yourself. Now you said there was danger. Can you tell me more?"

"I apologise, Harry Potter sir, but a house-elf is bound and Dobby cannot discuss this without the permission of his family!" He began wailing again and Harry finally grabbed a wad of socks and stuffed them firmly into Dobby's mouth, stifling the abhorrent sound.

"I am sorry, Dobby, but you don't want to seem to listen any other way. Now please do pay attention. This past year, my first, there was a significant danger. You weren't there to help me then and I doubt you'll be on hand to help me this year. If all you've come to say is stay away then my answer is no. I have someone to protect too, and if I don't go she'll be alone. I won't have that. I know you can understand. I'm a little more resilient than you think." Gently Harry reached forward and removed the socks from Dobby's mouth.

"Mister Harry Potter sir, Dobby must apologise, but I must stop you from going then. Life before and after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is and was awful for house elves, but nothing compared to when he was in power. You must live, Harry Potter!" With that the elf Disapparated with a loud 'crack' and left Harry alone with a sinking feeling in his stomach, something was about to go terribly wrong.

oOo

Sooner than Harry could have anticipated nearly two weeks had gone by and September first was upon them once again. Harry stood outside the entrance to Platform nine and three quarters with the rest of the Weasley's who'd brought him upon Arabella's request. One of Harry's little siblings had gotten underfoot and the older woman wasn't as nimble as she used to be. Harry had learned that it was apparently difficult to drive the car with a broken leg.

"Hurry up, you lot! The train's going to leave any minute now," Mrs. Weasley yelled, hurriedly shooing her children towards the barrier.

"C'mon Harry! All the good seats will be taken!" Ron called at the edge of the brick wall. Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and hastened to catch up to his friend when the girl he was practically dragging tripped. The rest of the Weasleys had already gone through, which saved a little bit of the girl's dignity as only Harry and Ron were there to see her. It didn't stop it from being absolutely mortifying, though. Tripping in front of the boy you like, what next? Looking to her left Ginny saw her trunk had fallen open and some of her things had spilled out. Harry bent down and righted the trunk and quickly began refilling it.

"Ron, you go ahead and save us a compartment. I don't want to have to be sitting in the aisle the whole way there!" Harry called over his shoulder. Ron grunted in affirmation and hurried through the barrier. As Harry was placing the last of Ginny's things back in her trunk he saw a book he'd not seen before. It was old and rather beaten up, which independently was no surprise as that is how most Weasley things were, but it didn't look like a text book.

Holding it in his hand he could clearly read T.M. Riddle on the spine. It felt wrong, evil almost. The hairs on Harry's neck were standing straight up if that were possible as he stared intently at the cover. He opened it to find… nothing. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he saw all the pages were empty. Ginny, however, snatched the book out of his hand and looked at it carefully.

"I don't remember packing this one. I wonder what it is?"

"I don't know, Ginny, but I don't like it. Get rid of it please. It feels funny."

"It's just a book. What harm ever came from writing in a book?" At this Harry secretly thought she'd never met Madam Pince, the guardian of all Hogwarts book purity. Ginny stowed the last of her things in the trunk and latched the lid firmly. "C'mon, we need to catch up with my brother." Both Ginny and Harry moved a little closer to the barrier before starting their jog towards the brick wall. WHAM! The brick wall, it seemed, today decided to be a real brick wall. Harry fell back his trunk flopping sideways and he quickly righted himself on all fours. He moved slowly over to Ginny and checked her for injuries. Nothing beyond the scrapes and bruises associated with running into a brick wall, thank Isis.

People around them were giving both of them strange looks and a man muttering something under his breath promptly shut up when he met Harry's very angry glare. Harry wrapped his arm around his red-headed compatriot's shoulders. She looked about ready to cry and he was sure it had nothing to do with the pain.

"Wh… why did the barrier close? I don't understand. Am I not allowed to go to Hogwarts? Did the letter arrive by mistake?" She was a second away from tears as Harry pulled her into an engulfing hug.

"No, it didn't arrive by mistake. You'll get there yet. We just need to find alternate means of transportation." Ginny smiled up at him and wiped her eyes. Standing quickly to her feet she even helped her black-haired protector up. She touched him! A victory any day.

"What's the plan, chief?" Ginny said in a more cheerful voice than she felt. Harry could feel the tension in his human, and she needed reassurance now more than ever.

"Fly. I've got my broom, maybe we could levitate the trunks and you could ride behind me. A flying caravan."

"Car… avan. Harry, you're a genius!" Ginny shouted, and then dropped into a conspiratorial whisper to explain. "Harry, I don't know if Ron told you but Daddy's car can fly!" Harry tried to look surprised. He'd been there when Ginny found her father tinkering and enchanting the machine in his garage. He'd helped her blackmail Mr. Weasley into giving her no chores for a week. Harry recommended a month, but his meows fell on deaf ears. He also knew it had never been tested.

"Ginny, I don't know if it's even still there. Why wouldn't your parents take it home?"

"They're always so forgetful, they probably Disapparated home and will come to pick it up later! C'mon, unless you have a better idea." She gave him a saucy look that Harry recognised. It usually meant that one of her brothers wouldn't let her do something because she was too little. He wasn't going to pick a fight about that.

Harry shrugged, picked up his trunk and followed Ginny out to the car park. There it was, a very old and beat up light blue Ford Anglia. Harry wasn't sure this was a good plan at all. He really hated riding in cars, the movement and noise always set his stomach on edge.

Ginny on the other hand loved the idea. The forbidden had always held a certain allure, especially when you could justify it. "Harry, come on! The barrier closed and the train is likely halfway to Hogwarts by now. They won't realise that we're missing till halfway through the feast and by then Mum will be going spare. We can just fly it to Hogwarts park it underneath the stands on the Quidditch pitch and owl daddy about it in the morning."

"How do you know so much about Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Six brothers and you, my dear sir." She replied smartly." With a grudging sigh he loaded his and Ginny's trunks into the magical boot. He watched with fascination as Ginny crawled in the driver's seat and began messing with a loose collection of wires underneath the steering wheel. Several minutes later the engine roared to life. "Our chariot, Mr. Potter," she said smiling cheekily.

"Ginny, where did you learn to do that?"

"All between Fred, George and Dad. Dad loves to figure out how things work and Fred and George taught me a bit about Muggle things so between them I kind of guessed how to make the car start without the keys. Muggles call it 'hot-wiring'."

"Sparkplug, I think that's illegal."

"Yeah, well, so is putting kids in hospital, so between us I guess we're just a pair of Azkaban rats!" She giggled at Harry's put-out expression. So much like her four-legged Harry she marvelled. It was almost like he was a Kneazle in human form. Shaking her head to clear it of silly ideas she hopped in the front seat and adjusted all the controls to fit her eleven year old form, trying with all her might to see over the dashboard. Anyone following her would have thought the car was being steered magically except for two small sets of knuckles gripping the steering wheel.

Harry dashed in the passenger side as she put it in gear and prayed with all his might that he still had at least three of his nine lives left. He had a feeling he was going to need them. Ginny pulled out of the carpark and adjusted the shifter to its 'levitate' setting. The car rose easily into the air prompting one little boy to have a fit trying to tell his mother and a drunk to pour away the rest of his bottle. 'Time to get sober' he thought.

"Ginny, everyone can see us! They'll notice in a moment." Harry yelled.

"Hold your hippogriffs Harry. We've got invisibility." Ginny smiled as she punched the button marked 'invisibility booster' on the stereo. Looking outside Harry couldn't see the car anymore, but he had to guess it was still there as he hadn't suddenly plummeted to earth and died a horrible splattery death.

"Sparkplug, do you know how to fly this thing?"

"Daddy likes to call it 'on the job training'." She smiled. Harry was seeing at least one of his lives flashing before his eyes. He wondered and hoped that since Kneazles lived longer than regular housecats he had a few more than nine. If Ginny's rambunctious streak became any more pronounced he was going to need them.

Flying in a northerly fashion Harry's sharp eyes quickly located the crimson of the Hogwarts Express winding its way through the hills towards the outwardly decrepit castle Harry had begun to call home number two. "There it is!" he cried.

Banking the car like a helicopter pilot straight out of the Falklands war, Ginny decided today was an excellent day to experiment with nap-of-the-earth automotive flying techniques. Harry could do nothing else but admire her ease at handling the large machine, almost like she was born to the air.

"If we hurry we can beat them there. I can meet Ron and Hermione to head into the castle and you can ride the boats over. They'll never miss us." Harry exclaimed enthusiastically. Ginny merely nodded and pressed the accelerator down to the floor. The car jerked heavily, dropped thirty feet became visible for a second and then accelerated heavily. "What was that?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Don't worry Paws, I've got it under control."

"Paws? What the bloody hell is Paws?"

"Well, you call me Sparkplug… NO one but Daddy calls me that. I still haven't asked where you heard it. Ohhhhh…. If Ron told you I'll kill the git," Ginny continued to growl incoherently at imaginary slights by her brother until she finally continued. "And I need something to call you. Harry is just so tame and you remind me of my Kneazle at home. No, you haven't met him yet, but his name is Harry too! I just thought it fit. So you're Paws now." Harry met her eyes with a look that clearly read 'if you must'.

"We're nearly there," Harry said several hours later. Flying wasn't nearly as fast as it looked Harry found. He'd taken the position as navigator with his keen direction sense and sharp eyes it left Ginny to do the actual flying.

"Good I don't know how much more this thing can take," Ginny said nervously. She enjoyed the car when it was working, but the invisibility booster had gone out for a good thirty minutes before either of them had noticed. A well-placed kick from Harry had started it up again; 'percussive maintenance' he called it.

Five minutes later the grounds of Hogwarts were in full view. They could hear the whistle of the Express approaching Hogsmeade. "Damn! I thought we were going to be early. This is going to get difficult."

"Don't worry Paws, we'll be down in no time!" With that Ginny pushed the car into a spectacular dive, the tires barely skimming the tree tops.

"Ginny, pull up! Don't touch the…" What Ginny wasn't supposed to touch however was lost as the Whomping Willow, which they did touch, slammed several of its largest branches into the bumper of the old Ford sending them from nap-of-the-earth to crashing rather painfully into the grounds just outside Hagrid's hut. Seatbelts being one of the Muggle inventions a top flight Ford pilot didn't usually wear, Ginny was thrown forward through the windshield, her fall only being broken by the squishy body of Harry landing immediately underneath her. The car righted its self flashed its lights and blared the horn in indignation. It made several rotations, digging deep ruts into Hagrid's pumpkin patch, and finally spat out both Harry and Ginny's trunks from the boot before disappearing into the forest.

Ginny was white as a ghost. Goodly-sized cuts lined her face and Harry was privately thanking Isis for watching out that no more harm came to his Human than that. Her next statement made Harry wish that maybe he had died. "Mum's going to kill me." An angry Mum Weasley was no fun to face. The rage that this little incident would generate from her should be truly earth shattering.

Harry could only watch helplessly as the now wild car drove itself deep into the forest. He had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't the last time he'd see it. "Come on Ginny. We're expected at the castle. Mum really will go spare if you don't turn up and we lost the car."

"Harry, _we_ didn't lose the car. I'm the one driving,"

"Piloting. Like one of those fancy Muggle aer-o-planes. Captain Ginny Weasley and her fearless co-pilot Paws bravely flying where no one has a right to fly!" Harry struck a dramatic pose and was rewarded with a soft giggle.

"Fine… piloting, but I'm the one who lost the car. I convinced you to take it."

"Firstly we did it together. Secondly how else would we have gotten here? I didn't much fancy walking did you? I think it was a good adventure and I'm sure your mum will forgive us eventually. She has to like you, you're family. She'll likely think it was all my idea anyway." Harry smiled nervously. He had sacrificed hours of potential nudity to appease the Weasley matriarch and now it could all be for nothing.

"Don't worry about it. We'll figure it out. I'm more worried about Ron. He'll have gone spare that he missed this."

The two friends locked eyes and smiled. Harry charmed both their trunks to levitate and they pushed them towards the imposing bulk of the castle hoping to avoid detection until they were firmly entrenched at the house tables, Harry conveniently forgetting that Ginny still needed to be Sorted.

oOo

They moved swiftly up to the castle, but unfortunately the doors were already shut. Harry stood on his tiptoes and peered in through the windows looking at the glow of the candles and the long line of students. "Harry, what's happening? Why are all the younger ones in a line?"

"Oh shite, it's the Sorting! Ginny, we have to get you in there. If you're not sorted you can't attend!"

"That may not be an issue, Potter." Every hair on Harry's neck stood on end. His imaginary tail was swishing back and forth furiously, and his ears would have been pinned flat to his head. Both Weasley and Potter whirled around to be confronted with the looming if not completely imposing form of Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master extraordinaire. "The newest Weasley," he spat, "I am pleased that for once you will be the last. Come with me both of you." They dutifully followed. Harry walked between Ginny and the professor, shoulders back, head up and his face set in a resolute expression. He didn't know how much trouble they were in, but he was determined that Ginny would face as little as possible. He didn't think she realized that the teachers couldn't really do anything to them. He'd explain it to her later.

They were led into the headmaster's office and sat in two of the signature overstuffed armchairs. "Arriving by train not good enough for you eh Potter? Not nearly flashy enough for the famous Potter and his new sidekick. Trying to get her expelled before she even starts?" Ginny let out a fearful squeak at this possibility.

"Hardly, Professor, and I will thank you to leave Ginny out of it. I am the sole one responsible. She came along out of necessity."

"Necessity? Cultivating your personal fame is hardly a necessity. If you were part of my house, expulsion would be too good for you, however since that does not rest with me I will go fetch those who have that happy power." With an evil grin and a dramatic billowing of his robes the surly professor strode from the office.

"That robe trick is neat. I wonder how he does it. I'll have to learn, you never know when it could come in handy," Harry said offhandedly.

"Harry!" Ginny shrieked almost in tears. "They're going to expel us and snap my wand!" She continued pulling her wand out of her pocket for dramatic effect.

"Ginny, I think the wand is already snapped," Harry cried.

"Oh no!" At the sight of her damaged wand she began to cry in earnest. "It.. it was my grandmother's and now!" She was so upset she could hardly speak.

"Breath, Sparkplug. If you need to you can use mine, nothing else for it. We'll get you a new one. C'mon they're not going to expel you, I won't let them. I'll tell them it was all my idea. They can kick me out if it comes to it."

"That may not be your choice, Mr. Potter," Harry whirled around in his chair so fast he thought he might have damaged something. There stood cousin McGonagall, Snape and Albus Kneazle-molester Dumbledore. Harry was really starting to get sick of people sneaking up on him in all his distraction. He'd be dead twice tonight alone if this were real.

"So…" McGonagall began, "you stole and illegally flew an enchanted car from Kings Cross, damaged a valuable piece of school flora and were SEEN by no less than seven Muggles. The Obliviator Squad is having to work overtime with regards to this. Can you please explain yourselves Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley?"

"The barrier to King's Cross closed, cous… er Professor. We needed a quick and reliable means of transportation to arrive at the school in a timely fashion. A flying, if not entirely invisible, car seemed the best option. Is there something else you would have preferred?" Harry asked indignantly. He hated having his (or in this case Ginny's) judgment questioned on something so very obvious. It wasn't like he had a way to contact them.

"Hmmm… a closed barrier." Dumbledore mused. "Any idea why it would have closed?"

"No, sir." Harry answered. Glancing sideways at Ginny the poor girl still seemed to be in no condition to answer.

"That has never happened before so you will understand my skepticism."

"No, professor, I don't. I haven't intentionally lied to you before and I don't make it a frequent point of doing it regularly, except on your orders. For all I know it happens every year and you just aren't telling me."

All eyes fixed on Harry. McGonagall's mouth had pursed into a nearly invisible line and Snape's eyes were about to bug out of his head. Dumbledore for his part merely nodded. "True Harry, that is true. This leads me to the only logical conclusion. Powerful magics were at work here, something we don't fully understand."

"Does that mean we're not going to be expelled?" Ginny finally found her voice.

"Not today, my dear girl. Although I must impress upon you both the seriousness of what you have done. In the future should such a thing occur it would be best for you to stay put and wait for an adult." Harry snorted at that. Wait for an adult indeed, that lack of independence is what got so many human young into trouble. He was glad Kneazles encouraged independent thought and action.

"Professor! I must protest! These two have flaunted school rules, broken the Decree for Secrecy and Underage Wizardry, damaged a valuable school tree…"

"Severus," Dumbledore interrupted quietly, "my decision stands. Not today. Now I believe that we need to return to the feast. Minerva, young Miss Weasley needs to be Sorted if you would retrieve the hat and administer. Please do let me know where she is placed." With that and a death glare from Snape both men walked out of the room.

"I had anticipated something like this," Professor McGonagall muttered as she produced the old floppy Sorting Hat. "Place this on your head if you please Miss Weasley."

Ginny cautiously took the hat and placed the over sized garment over her head nearly obscuring her entire face. After what seemed only a few seconds the hat called out "GRYFFINDOR!" She pulled it off and Harry could see the relief on her features. Nodding in appreciation, or resignation, the Transfiguration Professor waved her wand and a large plate of sandwiches and two goblets of pumpkin juice appeared.

"Now both of you will wait here and eat. Your trunks have already been taken up to your rooms and you will head there, after you've eaten and the feast has concluded."

"Professor?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter."

"Since the term really hadn't started when we flew the car and Ginny wasn't part of Gryffindor…"

"No, Mr. Potter, no House Points will be taken. However you both will be receiving detentions."

Harry looked puzzled. "That's nice, but I was wondering if we have to sleep outside or miss breakfast or something you know… important."

Don't kill… he's not all human. That had been Minerva's chant the previous year once she was aware of Mr. Potter's 'furry little problem'. It looked like she'd need it again. "Mr. Potter despite what you think House Points are considered by many here to be 'important'. Now if you'll excuse me I have to rejoin the feast."

"That could have gone worse," Harry observed, as their head of house swept out of the room rather hurriedly.

"Mum's still going to kill me." Ginny said morosely.

"Maybe, but not until Christmas. That's a whole term away! So live a little. This Friday I'll take you to meet Hagrid. I think you'll like him." Ginny smiled a little.

"Anyone you like has to be a bit of alright Paws."

"There you are! Now come on. Dinner's wasting."

After both had stuffed themselves with food (who knew life-threatening situations gave you such an appetite?) they leaned back and listened to the sounds of the Great Hall wafting in from the open window.

"Why do you think they didn't expel us?" Ginny asked cautiously.

"Because you're so cute, I bet," Harry said offhandedly. Ginny's face flamed red. She wasn't sure how he meant it, but it had to be good either way.

"Let's go, it sounds like the feast let out. We'll need the password to get to the tower."

The way to the tower seemed like an endless maze of passages for Ginny and with Harry giving her basic instruction on Hogwarts life she was hard-pressed to remember it all. Finally, they were at the Portrait Hole. "Password?" The Fat Lady asked.

Harry merely stammered. They hadn't been given one!

"Mate! There you are! I was wondering where you'd gotten to. It's all over, they said you flew a car here and crashed into the Whomping Willow."

"We didn't really crash into it. We sort of grazed the upper branches and it smacked us out of the sky. We might have been killed if Ginny hadn't piloted so well," Harry said modestly.

"Wait, Ginny flew! Flew a car all the way here by herself?"

"Well I navigated."

"Where did you get a flying car anyway… hold on tell me it wasn't…"

"It was Daddy's," Ginny finally added looking thoroughly abashed at her shoes.

"Bloody brilliant. Mum's going to have your hide, don't get me wrong, but it was brilliant. Don't tell Hermione I said so, though. She's been going mental with worry for you two when you didn't show up on the train."

"Ron, what's the password?"

"Oh, Fizzing Whizbee." With that the portrait hole swung open and all three clambered in to a party that none of them were anticipating. The entire house was there, from Fred and George congratulating them on a job well done to Hermione admonishing them for both flying the car and making her worry. Being of smaller stature could come in handy Harry found as he and Ginny were able to slip through the crowd and avoid a very disgruntled-looking Percy.

"How was this for your first trip to Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Bloody brilliant!" Ginny exclaimed as she headed up to bed.

Harry reflected as he climbed the stairs to his own dorm bed that today had, despite all its shortcomings, been bloody brilliant.

_AN: Thank everyone for both their kind responses and input on an American Harry. It was just an idea, and in retrospect likely a poor one at that. I am officially looking for interesting plot ideas. I will finish this one first, so no fear loyal readers! UPDATE MAN was nearly foiled by his arch nemisis, COMPUTER PROBLEMS! Kneazle Harry will continue to develop I am open to both input and constructive criticism. I would like to say that I have reached 176 reviews with 0 flames! I don't know if it is a record, but it feels like one to me! Thank you all!_


	14. Back in the Swing of Things

Ch14 Back in the Swing of Things 

The next morning saw the return of relative normality to Hogwarts. Harry awoke rolled into a near ball with his hand over his face and slowly stretched and kneaded the bedspread. Remembering quickly that no claws were thus present, Harry was able to avoid trying to sharpen them on the curtains.

Harry and Ron met Ginny and Hermione in the common room and between the three of them they escorted a still disoriented Ginny to the Great Hall. "Don't worry, all the first years have a tough time finding their way around. I remember my first year," Ron said slowly.

"RON! That was last year. I bloody hope you remember it," Ginny snapped. If there was one thing Harry knew about Ginny it was that she didn't like to be treated like a baby.

Breakfast was a lively affair with kippers, toast and a variety of other dishes that Harry didn't have to chase down… then the mail arrived. A letter dropped unceremoniously in front of Harry and another in front of Ginny. However, while Harry's was a regular white parchment letter Ginny's was red and began to smoke ominously.

"Mum sent me a Howler…" Ginny stammered out. Now while Harry may never have received one he certainly had been around Fred and George enough to know what one was.

"Ginny, you'd better open it. I heard they explode if you don't," Ron stammered nervously. The letter began smoking in a far more ominous fashion.

"Is that all?" Harry asked.

"What! Isn't that enough? Blimey Harry, what else would you like it to do, jump up and tap dance?"

"RON!" Harry snapped as he stared intently at the letter now beginning to swell. "Is that all! It just explodes nothing else more ominous than that?"

"Well, no, not that…" Ron never got to finish his sentence as Harry had snatched the letter from Ginny's hands and was sprinting full force across the Great Hall. The Hufflepuffs were a little surprised when he decided to go across their table as opposed to around it to get to the entrance. He ignored the angry shouts from both students and teachers alike. He was a Kneazle on a mission. As he was diving headfirst out the front doors the letter finally exploded. The resounding shockwave shook the rafters of the castle and caused dust to adorn any uneaten breakfast.

A millisecond later a singed and smoking Harry came hurtling back through the doors in a comical reversal of the way he left. It was apparent, however, that this was not under his own power. The Hufflepuffs ducked and swore as The-Boy-Who-Got-Blown-Up hurtled mere inches over their breakfast. He eventually landed and skidded to a halt at the feet of Professor McGonagall who had to fight an internal smile from forming. Her stern exterior never wavered.

Before lay her most troublesome student in possibly the history of her tenure and that included both the boy's father and the current resident troublemaker Weasleys. His robes were singed and ragged, his face was covered in black and he was munching kippers on toast he had somehow managed to liberate from the Hufflepuff table during his flight across the hall. "Morning, professor!" He said cheerily.

She frowned a little deeper. This year wasn't shaping up to be any better than last as far as getting the House Cup. "Mr. Potter, what may I ask are you doing?"

"Oh, you know professor, running, jumping, getting blown up by dangerous post, eating breakfast. The usual." He took another bite of the toast and fish combination.

"I see. Well then if that is indeed 'usual' I think the 'usual punishment' should be specified. Twenty points from Gryffindor and detention this Friday. Your other detention will be this Thursday with Professor Lockhart. If you will excuse me I must inform Miss Weasley of her detention." She strode away shaking her head sadly. Taking points away from her own house on the first day… the elder Potter and Black weren't that bad.

Harry, still flat on his back, took the time to finish eating his toast and observe the teacher's table from an upside down position. A different look on the world was always positive. Professor Sprout was looking rather put out, but he supposed that may have been due to his special attention to her Hufflepuffs. Dumbledore had his eyes sparkling, Kettleburn was biting his hand and shaking silently, Lockhart was staring at Harry with a very condescending 'silly little boy' expression, and Snape was, to no one's surprise, giving him the full benefit of his loathing. Harry smiled waggled his eyebrows and gave a little wave to the surly professor. Really, you'd think with all his potions he could at least find something to cure the constant indigestion he seemed to have.

Harry stuffed the last bit of toast in his mouth, rolled over, stood up and walked nonchalantly back to his table amidst glares from about half of them. "Harry!" Hermione hissed, "Why on earth did you do that? I bet this is the first time Gryffindor has ever lost points on the first day! We haven't even had time to make any. How are we going to win the Cup this year?" Hermione it seemed had become increasingly fixated on the idea of winning the cup this year. Ron had explained that some of the older students had a bit of a long memory and had given her a hard time on the train. It seemed the two ideas were apparently connected to Ron, but Harry didn't see how yet. He'd figure it out eventually.

"Come off it Hermione, they're just points. We'll get more later. Maybe if we kill another troll, or prevent an artifact of unimaginable power from falling into the wrong hands or Ron stays awake through History of Magic we could win!"

"Oi! You don't even attend History of Magic! So don't go accusing me!" Ron shouted indignantly.

"You're welcome to join me anytime."

"Out the third floor window? I don't think so. Napping is much safer."

Harry chuckled. "We'll make a Kneazle out of you yet." His eyes went wide and despite his best efforts Harry couldn't keep the 'oh shite' expression off of his face. Ron was looking puzzled, Ginny was staring intently and Hermione had a calculating look that never meant anything good. "Hehe, well er… what do we have first?"

"Herbology with the Huffies." Ron replied.

"How 'bout you Sparkplug?" Harry asked Ginny who squeaked in surprise. This puzzled Harry, she didn't think he was going to leave her out of it, did she?

"Well erm, I've got Double Transfiguration with Ravenclaw." Ginny stammered.

"Nice! Transfiguration is a boffing good time."

"Harry, I really don't think that is quite the word you're looking for." Ron said.

"Nonsense. I heard Bill use it all the time. He was talking about some girl and said she was a 'boffing good time'. Makes perfect sense." Harry's brain suddenly caught up to his mouth. Oh shit number two… why did today have to start out this way. If they weren't suspicious before, they would be now. Damn it and he took such great pains!

"Harry! When," Ron began.

Harry merely grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her through the crowd of people now beginning to depart breakfast for morning lessons and jammed a piece of toast in his mouth. "C'mon I'll show you where Transfiguration is." He ground out around the toast.

"Harry is," Ron began.

"Definitely hiding something," Hermione completed. "I think we need to know what." She had her jaw set in a resolute fashion that always made Ron nervous.

"Right, but Herbology first. Come on, we'll be late." And with the prospect of being late all immediate thoughts of a secret Harry were dashed from her mind as they hurried towards the greenhouses.

oOo

"Harry, why did you take my Howler?" Ginny puffed. She wasn't used to all these stairs! Harry was amazing; he seemed tireless as he hurried through the maze of hallways and past magically moving portraits. She was sure she was going to be lost in a day.

"No sense in spoiling your breakfast. Mum Weasley will just yell later, too, might as well not bother going through it twice. Besides Arabella sent me a letter which likely says all the same things without all the yelling, and it hurts my ears. Ah! Here we are. Greatest class I've had yet with the best teacher yet!" Harry proclaimed loudly. Harry never could explain why he liked Transfiguration, it just felt right.

"Mr. Potter! While your dedication to helping your fellow Gryffindor is worth three points I would suggest you get to class. Only a few minutes left and I know the greenhouses are at least that far." Harry flashed McGonagall a smile and barreled through her classroom his sights set on the open window.

Several floors below Ron and Hermione were walking out the doors of the castle following their classmates to the greenhouses where Herbology was normally conducted. Professors Sprout and Lockhart came walking into view; the witch of the group carrying a surprising number of bandages, the Whomping Willow's branches could be seen in slings in the far distance. "Ah morning students! I was just showing Professor Sprout here a few new tricks on bandaging up a volatile plant. Come in useful several times when I was in…"

"Thank you Professor Lockhart." Professor Sprout interrupted. "Greenhouse three today chaps. Hurry up!"

"If I may for one moment, Professor," Lockhart began, "Do any of you happen to know where Mr. Potter is? I notice he isn't with you."

"Up around the Transfiguration classroom, but he should be down in a moment," Hermione replied quickly, admiration shining from her eyes.

"Oh, thank you, five points to Gryffindor!" At this the Hufflepuffs looked slightly indignant and Hermione looked ready to explode from happiness, when a loud noise could be heard coming from above them.

"OHHHHHHHHHH SHIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTE!" The sound got progressively louder and everyone looked up and hastily scattered to avoid a rapidly enlarging form of one Harry Potter. Harry hit the ground on all fours with a hard thud and rolled to one side with what might have been an easy grace had the fall not been so long.

"HARRY!" Ron and Hermione yelled in unison as they and Neville rushed over to see what was wrong.

"Harry! What happened?"

"Where did you come from, mate?"

"Did you just jump out another window? I TOLD you that was going to get you in trouble."

"Mr. Potter," Harry looked dazedly at Professor Sprout. "Where did you come from, and do you need to see Madam Pomfrey? That was quite a fall you took."

"Oh, ermmm... Transfiguration room and no, I think I'm fine." He stood up and winced visibly on his right leg.

"Harry! You're not alright. That leg could be broken!" Hermione whispered.

"I'm fine. Don't worry so much. I don't want to miss the first day of Herbology." Harry hissed back.

"Mr. Potter am I to understand that you jumped from the Transfiguration room and landed here and you do not in fact wish to see Madam Pomfrey?" Professor Sprout asked. Harry nodded.

"It's no big deal professor. Harry jumps out of windows all the time, really." Ron piped up trying to be helpful. Harry quickly elbowed him in the ribs. "OW! What was that for git? Just trying to help."

"You aren't, so shut your cake hole!"

"Why you..."

"BOYS!" Professor Sprout interjected. "Everyone to greenhouse three. NOW!" Harry began to limp quickly to the greenhouse supported heavily by Neville because Ron and Hermione had begun bickering again, when he felt an adult hand on his shoulder. Looking up it belonged to the only Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Professor, would you mind if I borrowed Harry for a moment?" Professor Sprout's face clearly said she did mind, but Lockhart was paying no attention. "Thank you, Professor." Lockhart smiled winningly, as he began to gently steer Harry away from Neville, who to his credit refused to be easily disposed of.

"Excuse me, son, this talk is for Harry only, you know. Detention matters," Lockhart said in a dismissive matter.

"Professor," Harry finally spoke up, grabbing the older man's attention. "While Professor Sprout may not have minded if you borrowed me, though I suspect otherwise, I do. I am currently going to be late for my second favorite class and I'll make Neville late for his best one. Really, as he tutors the rest of us, that isn't quite fair to anyone else for the green thumb here to miss out on a very important lesson. If you will excuse us," Neville, picking up the silent cues, quickly moved to support his injured friend as they hobbled away . Lockhart for his part merely stood slack-jawed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been dismissed and certainly never by a twelve-year-old.

Repotting Mandrakes was the order of the day and as the cries were apparently fatal and required earmuffs they didn't have much of a chance to discuss anything further until lunch. At which point Harry grudgingly told his friends about the encounter with Lockhart.

"...And it was a big thanks to Neville really for not leaving me. I don't know if I could have hobbled all the way back here on my own. Never did get a chance to say thank you mate." Harry concluded.

"Nothing you wouldn't have done for me I'm sure," Neville said modestly.

"Harry! That was terribly rude. What if he had something important to tell you?" Hermione sounded deeply offended at the idea anyone would purposefully ignore a teacher.

"Who cares? Why couldn't he say it in front of Neville? If he can't say it in front of my friends it can't be that important. And he moves funny Hermione, I don't like him."

"Never judge a book by its cover Harry. He's a great wizard."

"Did you really jump out of the Transfiguration room?" Ron asked incredulously trying to prevent a full blown argument.

"Sure did," Harry said skewering another green bean. He hated the things, but even Kneazles eat grass once in awhile.

"Harry! That's on the fourth floor!" Ron said amazed.

"Yeah, well, it's right above the History classroom isn't it? I go out that one all the time. Never realize how much further an extra floor is. Owwwww..." Harry moaned as a fresh spasm of pain hit his ribs.

"You should have seen Professor McGonagall's face!" Ginny howled, bursting into a fresh round of laughter at the thought. "I don't think she believed it, until he started screaming like a Pixie in a Bubotuber."

"I did not!"

"You really did, mate," Neville finally interjected.

"Oh... well, what do we have this afternoon?"

"Defence Against the Dark Arts, with Lockhart," Hermione responded quickly.

"Have it all outlined in little hearts?" Ron snorted.

"Just because you're jealous! He's a great wizard. Look at all the things he's done!"

"Things he said he's done..." Ron added darkly.

oOo

It was the best Defence class ever, Harry decided. Lockhart had released a batch of highly agitated Cornish Pixies in the room and left them to deal with it. While the girlish screams of Draco Malfoy would be savoured for a long time, the best part was that the professor left the room and let them deal with the pixies on their own! Hermione had used a spell to immobilize them. Ron and Neville had been stuffing them back into the cage and Harry had taken to swiping them out of the air and slamming their heads on the table to knock them into an unconscious state and then handing them off to his friends. Effective, but it did put a damper on the pixies' social activities for some time.

"THAT WAS AWESOME!" Harry yelled. "I take back what I said earlier. Hermione, you were right, he's brilliant. I shouldn't, how did you put it, judge a book by its cover? Yeah, I definitely shouldn't do that. He's the most fantastic, brilliant teacher… EVER!"

"Harry, are you mental? The git just let those things loose and said 'deal with it'. How is that teaching?"

"Experience is the best teacher of all, Ron. It's the same way in the forest. Mum might show you once, but after that it's up to you. I like him. I could get used to this," Harry smiled broadly.

"See Ron, even Harry agrees." Hermione said smugly.

"Well, far be it for me to criticise a teacher if you don't." Ron replied.

"Hey now, lessons are through for today. Let's get dinner and then what do we have tomorrow? It can't possibly be as great as today though." Harry nearly bounded into the Great Hall his sharp eyes picking out Ginny with hawk like gaze. She giggled as he leaped into the seat next to her and began explaining the excitement of the day.

Seamus Finnegan and his friend Dean Thomas both looked rather wary of Harry's new-found vocal speed. "What did you give him?" Dean asked.

"I just let him have a sugar quill. That's all, I swear!" Ron replied. Harry continued babbling on ignorant of the reproach his friend was receiving for giving him any quantity of sugar.

Dinner seemed to calm the hyperactive boy down and he was smiling contentedly as they sat in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was reading ahead for their potions class tomorrow and Ron was in the corner with a section of the i_Daily Prophet_/i scouring the sports section for any mention of his beloved Cannons. Harry's Kneazle senses began to tingle as he closed his eyes and worked on locating Ginny. He had tried with others, but Ginny always stood out the strongest for him. She was to his… right. Ten feet or so away and closing fast. "Harry?" she whispered.

He opened his eyes lazily and gave her his best relaxed look. "What's the problem, Sparkplug?"

"Don't do that Harry, please. I want to show you something." With that Harry sat up straight and motioned for Ginny to come over. The younger girl plopped down next to him and cautiously pulled out a ragged-looking book. Harry felt distinctly uncomfortable. The spine held the gold letters T.M. Riddle down its length.

"Ginny, what's this? I thought you'd get rid of it."

"I can't now Harry! I wanted to show you, it writes back!"

"What? How does a book write back?" He asked. Flipping through the blank pages he found nothing. "Good joke Sparkplug but the pages are empty," he said smiling. She'd really scared him there for a moment.

"Ha! Shows what you know, watch this." Taking out a quill she began to write.

_Dear Tom, I'm with Harry__, but he didn't believe you were real. _

The lines faded into nothingness and slowly a neat but definitely male handwriting came scrawling back.

_Ah Ginny, it has been a day or two since we last spoke. Hello Harry, I assure you I'm quite real. How are you?_

With that the lines again faded into nothing. Harry's eyes were as big as saucers and his mouth was completely unhinged.

"Ginny, get rid of it. Please just flush it down the toilet or burn it or something! Just get rid of it."

"Why, Harry? Jealous? It's not like I can't have other friends," she pouted.

"Ginny, it's not a friend. It's a magically talking book! That could be dangerous. What is it your dad always said? 'Never trust anything if you can't see where it keeps its brain?' Please Ginny just get rid of it." Their argument was soft but intense. Ginny was loath to give up such a unique possession and Harry was equally adamant that it was not something to play around with. Their bickering distracted them from two larger figures approaching behind them.

"Whatcha got there, Ginnykins?" Fred said as his twin pulled the object of dispute from her hands.

"HEY! Give that back!" She yelled as she jumped up on the sofa.

"Sorry, Ginnykins!"

"You'll have to beat it out of us." They stared smugly forgetting one thing, Harry was there.

"Ow, ow, ow, wow!" Harry had leaped over the back of the sofa and tackled the larger boy with the book, Harry still didn't know which one, and attempted to give him the thrashing of his life. Funny thing though about puberty, it helps those in it avoid heinous bodily harm from those yet to go through it. While some injury was inflicted it was nowhere near the level Harry anticipated and with the help of the other twin Harry was soon being held at an ineffectual distance from his target.

"Calm down, mate! Merlin! We were just joking. No need to go mad. Here you can have the ruddy book." George handed it back to his sister with a somewhat apologising grin. "What's so special about it anyway?"

"It talks back!" Ginny said brightly, ignoring Harry's irritated growls.

"We have something a bit like that, don't we Fred."

"Indeed we do dear brother of mine. Perhaps we'll have to compare sometime."

"Maybe..." Ginny said somewhat defensively.

"Now if you will excuse us," Fred began.

"We have something to prepare for," George finished with a wink they strode out of the portrait hole.

Potions on Thursday would have been both easier and more tolerable if Harry's mind was on the lesson instead of worrying about Ginny. He'd asked her repeatedly to get rid of the cursed book, but she'd resisted and she'd not carried it with her since their talk with Fred and George. Her inner strength was driving him crazy, but at the same time made her worthy of being his human. No Kneazle wants a weak human for a pet. They just aren't suitable. So it came to no one's surprise when Harry was singled out by Professor Snape for special attention. With Neville as a partner it would be hard for the slimy Potions Master to ignore such a golden target.

They were brewing a Proofing Draught. The draught was basic, but could be tailored to the material you wanted to proof from, whether that be water, blood, urine, or liquid hot magma. Harry was having a tough time. It was the third time he'd had to start over after a contemptuous sneer from the Professor in charge and Harry was getting frustrated. He was working on his mantra, sure that disembowelment of a professor was at least worth a week's detention, but finding it increasingly hard to ignore the jabs and snide comments directed at both himself and Neville.

One downside to learning how to verbally fence with a human was that you learned what all the words meant. Harry wasn't sure if it was better now that he could push back, or when he was happily ignorant of the meanings and innuendo of the English tongue. "Potter, tsk tsk as ignorant as ever. I suppose you forgot to add the newt liver again?"

"No, Professor. You said that the color should be green and so it is. I was just about stir three times counter clockwise and add the second infusion of wormy chestnut bark."

"Ah, then why hasn't Longbottom gotten it right? Three points from Gryffindor for sabotaging another student's potion." Harry growled in irritation as the hook-nosed man strode away. He'd promised Hermione he would make a good faith effort in all his classes this year and try not to lose too many points but this man was pushing his patience and his concentration was suffering.

After helping Neville make a correction to his potion and avoid another potentially catastrophic meltdown like last year, there it was: a light blue for the water proofing solution! Neville's was a kind of purple but no matter it was close enough. It wasn't like Neville's talents lay in potions regardless. The boy had a head for nothing but his plants and in a greenhouse the boy was a god. Apparently his Gran had agreed to help him build a small one to practice in over the summer and during the odd moments the professor wasn't hanging over their shoulders trying to catch a deductable offense Harry had learned quite a bit about some rather obscure uses for some common household plants.

The end of the lesson could not come too quickly as Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors were being graded. The Slytherins had gone first if only to show the Gryffindors 'how it should be done'. Snape had grudgingly given Hermione a perfect and even Ron had managed decent marks. Finally he arrived to the cauldron table of Harry and Neville.

"Cheated, eh, Potter? Switched cauldrons with Longbottom? That's going to cost both of you." Snape drawled.

"Professor, why don't you just dock points from me and be done with it?" Harry asked exasperatedly.

"Excuse me, Potter?" Snape spat.

"You heard what I said, Professor. I think it is becoming rapidly apparent that you don't seem to like me. I don't know why nor at this particular point do I care, but you seem dead set on punishing me for something I may have done. I would be flattered at all the attention except you seem set on dragging my classmates into it as well. So please refrain from involving them unless you don't like Neville for something he might have done, too. If not, dinner is to be served shortly and this class has done nothing to curb my appetite."

Harry's acute ears could hear the Professor's molars grinding together in either rage or frustration. Harry merely leaned back and gave his best I-don't-give-a-damn expression. "You will have detention with me tonight Potter and twenty points from Gryffindor."

"Sorry, Professor, you'll have to get in line. I already have detention tonight and tomorrow. If you give me a few hours I'm sure to arrange something for most of next week. You really should try to schedule these things in advance." Harry grinned.

The look on Snape's face could have frozen liquid hot magma and created a whole new island. Harry was rather unphased. This was all part of the posturing that Sebastian had talked about and if he was honest with himself he'd seen Father do it too. This bat-like man needed to be warned off from his Pride and Harry was just the Kneazle to do it. "Next Monday then, I'm afraid you'll not be able to see Quidditch tryouts then," he smirked victoriously. Harry shrugged, he hadn't really planned on going anyway. Despite Wood's insistence the whole team be there in case a natural prodigy was spotted. Glancing at both Harry and Neville's potions he gave them acceptable marks and moved on. It was Harry's turn to smile.

"Harry! Why did you do that? You promised you'd be good." Hermione begged.

"Hermione, I tried, I really did, but the bugger has it in for me."

"Goading a teacher in class is not what I would call trying," she grumped.

"It worked, didn't it?" Harry asked smugly.

"What are you talking about?"

"He was going to take marks off both Neville and me, but all we lost were twenty points and we both made acceptable. A worthwhile trade don't you think?" Harry's Cheshire grin spread once more over his smug features.

"Well, I,..."

"What's more important Hermione, house points or good marks?"

"That's not fair!"

"Neither is the world. Now let's go eat!"

_AN: Alright chaps! I am immensely sorry at the long wait. However, I have been updating this story (as well as revising) on SIYE, a Harry Ginny ship site. As this story meets their criteria and I'm a regular reader over there I decided to post. I have also acquired a brit picker and Beta so their schedules are directly involved in the length of time for me to post. A hearty thank you to everyone who has reviewed and I hope to get back into a more regular update schedule. I hope you will all note the vastly improved spelling and punctuation. All my British readers should note a more British feel to the story as well. A big thank you to TEAM UPDATE! Because you are all my faithful readers, you will receive posts first followed shortly by SIYE. Thanks a bunch and punch that review button!_


	15. Pranks and Voices

Ch15 Pranks and voices.

Supper that evening was even better than Harry could have hoped for. Not only was he set to serve detention with the best teacher since Hagrid to walk through these hallowed halls, but the evening entertainment went swimmingly as well. There he was innocently eating a slice of one of the delicious confectionaries that were provided free of charge for post supper enjoyment when all of a sudden a giant flock of birds exploded from the center of the Hufflepuff table and began forming themselves into flocks that made rather rude suggestions about the heritage, grooming habits, personal hygiene, selection of undergarments and sexual orientation of the Slytherin table's occupants and several of the less pleasant professors as well.

Everyone's eyes found their way slowly then faster to Harry. Why, one might ask? Was it because he perpetrated such a hilarious act of skullduggery? No, he just wasn't laughing as hard as anyone else at his table. It was almost like he expected it. Harry realized his social faux pas too late and found that all eyes, especially multiple angry Slytherins were fixated surely on the Boy-Who-Might-Not-Live-Much-Longer. "Harry, that was bloody amazing!" Ginny whispered to him on the trip back to the trophy room.

"Yeah it was, except I didn't do it."

"What are you talking about? You had to, you didn't even look surprised."

"Can I tell you a secret?" Harry whispered and Ginny's eyes lit up.

"Of course, we're friends."

"I was fascinated with the birds. They just looked so good!"

"I know. The timing was perfect and everything. It was amazing how they moved together to make the words like that!" Harry nodded realizing for the first time in his twelve years that there are times in the universe where two people are saying the exact same thing with completely different meanings.

Harry liked the easy two legged friendship he'd established with Ginny. He felt like he could tell her anything and he ached to tell her his secret, but Dumbledore's warning always held him back. Now there was something more. A small wiggle of doubt had wormed his way into his mind and planted itself deep where it was not easily dislodged. What if she didn't like the idea? What if she only liked him on two legs because he was Harry Potter? Would being Kneazle Harry be the same? He hoped so. "Can I ask you something Sparkplug?"

"Sure."

"Did you ever get rid of your diary?" Ginny's demeanor changed suddenly.

"Harry, I don't want to talk about it. You promised you'd stop asking at dinner."

"Please Ginny! I don't like it. Please!"

"Harry, begging doesn't suit you. You aren't a dog. Girls sometimes keep a diary. It's what we do. I happen to, so you'll need to get over it."

"And if the diary talks back? What then?" He insisted.

"Then whoever has it has an extra special friend." Ginny stuck her nose up in the air and tentatively looked over at a crestfallen Harry. "Please, I don't want to talk about it. Harry I appreciate you walking me to detention, but it isn't as though there is something dark and mysterious lurking around the halls. Don't you have detention too? With Professor Lockhart?"

The clocktower began its slow toll.

"Pants! I forgot, see you later, Sparkplug." Racing down a staircase in the middle of a change, with a great leap Harry landed and rolled gracefully into the office of one Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Ah, Harry my boy! There you are. I'd hoped you wouldn't be late. Out making more mischief with your little friends I suppose. Come on in and have a seat."

For the next three hours Harry became increasingly more frustrated and confused. With a great man like Lockhart Harry had expected the detention to utilize his extensive knowledge of the forbidden forest or to assist the man in clearing out a nest of Billywigs. He'd hoped to see the teacher in action. At the very least he should be assigned a task like clearing out more Pixies or perhaps having a go at an Acromantula. All he had done thus far was answer fan mail and listen to the professor drone on about the importance of managing one's fame correctly. Then he heard it, a voice that chilled him to his claws.

'Rip, Tear, Kill. Blood, I need Blood..."

"WHAT-THE-HELL-WAS-THAT?" Harry blurted out.

"I'm sorry, my boy? I hadn't said anything at the moment. Great scott look at the time. I've kept you here an extra half hour. Well be off with you, and let this teach you a lesson about flying cars to school." Lockhart chuckled at his own joke. Harry on the other hand was rather disturbed. Hearing a disembodied voice was enough to rattle even him. It didn't sound like a ghost and it was headed upwards. He walked quickly to the nearest flight of stairs next to the girls loo, when the force of the explosion knocked him from his feet and within seconds had brought Lockhart, Professor Snape, and the surly caretaker all to the scene of the crime.

"What did you do to my bathroom? Oh, the headmaster will have to let me bring back the chains now!" Filch practically cackled. The mess of a destroyed bathroom far outweighed by the idea of corporal punishment.

"Now, now, perhaps Mr. Potter has some _reasonable_ explanation as to why he was in this area, besides exercising his explosive tendencies?" Snape drawled. Harry's blood ran cold. The man's eyes held no compassion and he felt for the first time like a kitten caught in the path of an oncoming truck. There was no way out. He couldn't admit to hearing voices. That was odd even for Kneazles, and he certainly didn't blow up a toilet. So what to do?

"I was just heading back to the tower, Professor," Harry stammered.

"Gryffindor tower is, I believe in the opposite direction, Mr. Potter. Would you care to try again?"

"Harry my boy you can tell them," Lockhart interrupted smoothly.

"Professor?" Harry was thoroughly bemused.

"You see, Professor," Lockhart began addressing Snape. "I had asked Harry here to retrieve a book from my classroom and as forgetting such a thing would be somewhat embarrassing for a world renowned wizard such as myself... well, you can understand his wanting to be discreet, can't you?" Lockhart flashed another of his dazzling smiles which seemed to temporarily blind his opponents long enough for him to pick Harry up on his feet. "There you go my boy. I'm sure this was quite the ordeal. Never mind about the book. Just hurry on back to the tower before anything else explodes." Harry heard Filch's sputtering protestations and felt rather the calculating stare of Snape's eyes boring into his back.

Harry indeed managed to make it back to the common room without any further plumbing mishaps. When he walked in he saw Ginny still sitting up. Her face was red and eyes were watering a little. "Ginny, are you alright?"

"Oh, what? Sure, Harry, I was just recovering from detention. I had to scrub all the trophies by hand and Filch had a new magical mess remover he was trying. The fumes just made me a bit queasy, is all. I'm having a hard time remembering it all, you know? Not that I want to remember detention. How was Lockhart?"

"Confusing. He's a great teacher there's no doubt about that, but I can't figure the lesson." Harry told Ginny about all the fatherly advice, most of which made no sense to Harry and helping the man answer fan mail.

Finally in a whisper, despite the lack of anyone else still in the common room she said "Harry, that isn't good. You're not supposed to hear voices no one else can hear."

"I know that. That's why I didn't tell anyone about it when the toilet exploded."

"Toilet exploded? You didn't say anything about that."

"Right as I was passing the bathroom."

"Had to be Fred and George. I mean, they're always going on about sending Mum a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"I didn't see them."

"You didn't see much of anyone." Harry growled in frustration. He hated it when she was right sometimes. Harry just didn't know though, the two things hardly could be connected. "Sleep on it. It'll come to you in the morning," Ginny said with a smile as she yawned and walked slowly up to the steps to the girls' rooms. She was always one for helpful advice and sleep sounded good.

McGonagall's detention was far less entertaining than he expected. While she didn't rant, rave or yell she did have the knack for finding exactly the one thing Harry might dread doing above everything else that day. This fine Friday night happened to find our hero copying damaged History book pages, for later use in repair by Madam Pince. Harry was starting to see the wisdom in avoiding detention, at least with Professor McGonagall.

It was a very weary and disgruntled Kneazle that finally heaved himself into bed. He was so exhausted he never even thought of visiting the forest, postponing it to the next day. He'd have to bring Ginny, too. So it was with great irritation that Harry awoke at... SIX IN THE FREAKING MORNING! "Oliver... there better be a damn good reason for this," Harry grumped.

"Don't give me that. You missed tryouts, not that anything changed, but we need to get a move on this year if we're going to keep that cup!" Harry muttered a few choice words at the idea of favouring a cup over sleep but he dutifully awoke and found his Quidditch robes and broom. After eating a hasty breakfast he found himself on the pitch listening to another of his wise captain's motivational speeches but soon enough they took to the air. Harry heard a rapid series of clicks coming from the stands and saw a rabid first year by the name of Colin Creevey engaging in his favourite activity, photo safari. Unfortunately the only game he was interested in shooting was Harry. Harry had become rather adept at avoiding one of his most rabid fans and Ginny had even talked to her yearmate for him. It didn't seem to dampen the boy's enthusiasm for photographic Harry-hunting and trying to get Harry to autograph photos for him.

"Who're they?" Oliver asked Harry.

"The one with the camera is a Gryffindor firstie and the other is Ginny," Harry said, pointing to the two slightly smaller figures next to Ron and Hermione. It seemed everyone had come out this morning if slightly belatedly to watch the team (or Harry) practice.

"Ginny?" Oliver looked puzzled.

"Ginny Weasley. You know, the twins' younger sister. That's Ron, her brother, and the bushy haired girl is…"

"Granger, yeah we know." Alicia Spinnett cut in with venom in her voice.

"Are you sure? They could be Slytherin spies. I heard they were pretty upset about the loss of the cup last year."

"Oliver, I don't think the Slytherins need spies," Fred called out.

"Oh? Why is that?"

"Because they're here!" George pointed at the knot of green-robed figures walking on the pitch.

"What are they doing here?" Katie Bell shouted. Wood was too run out to do much more than glare. The entire team raced down to confront the interlopers while the Gryffindor-friendly spectators moved in to assist.

"What's the meaning of this, Flint? I booked the pitch. You have no right to be here. I booked the pitch for today. I booked it!" Oliver howled.

"Ah, but you see there are some extenuating circumstances," Flint said with a glint passing a note to Wood.

"Didn't know a git like him could pronounce 'extenuating'," Fred murmured, earning him a glare from the other green-robed figures.

"What does it say Oliver?" Katie asked.

"The Slytherin team is granted special dispensation due to their need to train their new Seeker." Wood read aloud. "You've got a new Seeker, who?" he demanded.

A very smug Draco Malfoy stepped forward holding his brand new broom conspicuously. "Like it? It's the new Nimbus 2001. Just came out on the market last month," he said smiling directly at Harry.

"A nice donation from Draco's father has us all riding them now," Flint gloated. "Outstrips the last model considerably and as for Cleansweeps…" He smirked at Fred and George, "Sweeps the board with them."

Draco had on a most predatory grin that Harry was itching to wipe off. 'Don't kill, don't kill' "Skill takes more than speed," Harry replied.

"Well when you don't have either... oh look the peanut squad. Have a backup team already, Wood? You'll need it," Flint said menacingly as the fellow Gryffindors from the stands finally arrived on the pitch.

"What's going on? What's he doing here?" Ron asked with a derisive snort towards Draco.

"We were just admiring the brooms my father bought the team, Weasel. Cost more than your whole house I expect." Ron and Ginny agreed on something once again, this boy was an arse.

"Well, at least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent," Hermione righteously stated.

"Stay out of it you filthy little Mudblood!" Draco snapped. The whole pitch exploded. Flint stepped between his new Seeker and the Weasley twins. The Chaser squad was speechless with anger. Wood was nearly spitting nails. Ron had his wand out looking for a clear shot, but suddenly had his arms pinned to his side by Ginny and Harry.

"Ron, I want a piece, too, but you can't kill him."

"Harry, don't get all moralistic on me. He deserves to pay!"

"No, Ron, you can't kill him. We'll never get past their Beaters." Finally Ron understood. But none of the four friends had a chance. Two bright bolts of spell energy came flying from Fred and George's wands. The first hit Flint, flinging him bodily out of the way and taking the other two Slytherin Chasers with him. The other hit Malfoy straight in the chest collapsing the younger boy instantly. Red puss-filled boils began to form on his face and popped after a few seconds leaving a raw gaping wound. Draco's cries of agony could be heard nearly the entire way up to the castle as his team mates carried him to the hospital.

"Right, chaps! Enough Quidditch for today. We'll try again tomorrow!" Wood announced, clearly shaken by the recent events. Harry and Ron walked gingerly over to the twins and eyed them as though they might go off.

"Blimey, mates! Where did you learn that?" Ron asked in awe.

"Trade secret, Ronnikens," George said.

"Darn glad we learned it though, aren't you?" Fred asked in a pompous manner.

"Of course, old boy, of course nothing like a Tommy special to clear the day," George said pretending to polish a monocle on his robes. "Now really we must be off ta-ta! And stay away from the toilets, Harry!" The click and light of a flashbulb going off drew everyone's attention. Colin had flashed another of his pictures causing, Harry to sigh in frustration.

"Collin! I told you to stop doing that! Harry doesn't like it and I won't stand for it." Harry's heart warmed at Ginny's admirable defense of him. She was a frightening little firecracker when she was wound up and channeling her mum.

"Is that runt bothering you Harry?" The twins asked, standing precariously close. Harry merely shrugged.

"I've gotten used to it. I just try to avoid him." The twins shared a dark look and strode purposefully over to the runt in question, interrupting their sister's considerable rant. Without a word George plucked the camera from his hands and smashed it with his beater's bat as Fred pushed him flat on his back.

"Hey!" Colin shouted.

"Listen here little bastard," Fred began.

"We don't like you hassling our seeker and if we catch you taking pictures of him again we're going to... what are we going to do dear twin of mine?"

"We're going to put these beater's bats to good use beyond diverting Bludgers. I guarantee when we're done with you it'll take more than a bottle of Skele-Gro to set things right. Just mashed pudding of Creevey. You understand, runt?" The runt nodded as they picked him up by his arms and gave him a kick to his backside. "Good, now get out of here!" They laughed as he ran for the castle. Giving a jaunty wave they strode off in search of new amusements.

Ron and Ginny shared a look. "I don't think I like the new twins Ginny."

"Me neither," she agreed.

"That was awful! Why would they do that? Not that the pictures were your idea, Harry, but they could get in big trouble for that!" Hermione gasped.

"I don't know, Hermione, I didn't ask them to. Maybe they're just having an off day." All three of his companions looked at Harry as though he'd just grown a third hand and he shrugged. "I don't have a better explanation."

"Harry?" Ginny began. All this seriousness was starting to make her nervous again. "Can we go see Hagrid now? You promised."

"Sure thing, Sparkplug, I have to stop and see the Kneazles, too. Come on we can all go." Smiling uncomfortably all four of them set off towards Hagrid's hut trying desperately to forget about the incident at the pitch.

oOo

"He said what!" Hagrid boomed. They had made it to the house on the grounds in record time and with introductions made, all had settled in for a 'nice cuppa' as Hagrid was fond of saying. Hagrid was genuinely relaxed until Harry relayed the story in living color to his friend.

"Mudblood. He called her a Mudblood." Ron snarled.

"What does it mean though? I mean I could tell it was really foul but..." Hermione for the first time seemed lost. Harry guessed that her magical education didn't cover wizarding pejoratives.

"Only the foulest, nastiest reference to a Muggle-born. Dirty blood, impure blood. All rubbish. We've all got some Muggles in the family tree somewhere otherwise we'd have died out," Ron concluded righteously. They continued discussing the silliness of pure-blood supremacy for a few minutes until Harry started getting antsy.

"Hagrid, if you don't mind, have the Kneazles been hanging about?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Yeh, they have. Don' mind much either, they've been killin' the flesh eating slugs around the lettuce patch and haven't been botherin' the chickens." Hagrid smiled. "You lookin' to find 'em?

"Oh, just wondering. I'll see them in a bit." Harry merely smiled, winking at Ginny.

"Come see what I've been growin'." Hagrid's eyes twinkled mischievously. Out in the pumpkin patch were a number of the largest pumpkins Harry had ever seen.

"What have you been feeding them, Hagrid?" Ron asked.

"Well, you know a bit o' this a bit o' that. I might ha' been giving them a bit o' help." Hagrid smiled nervously

"Prrrrttt?" The loud trill of a Kneazle drew Harry's attention, giving Hagrid a needed distraction from his massive pumpkins.

"Igglebum! How've you been, cousin?" Harry threw decorum to the wind. The last time he'd seen this particular Kneazle they'd been racing towards certain doom and an inevitable confrontation with a possessed professor.

"Merowrow! Mew!"

"Sorry, not here." Harry said and then in a conspiratorial whisper "They don't know yet. I'll come see you tonight."

"Meow... merow... mahhhhwww?" Igglebum concluded. Harry liked the name; Arabella had given him the idea for when he was human.

"Oh, yeah, they're alright. Could you bring everyone though? Only Hagrid has met most of you." Harry smiled. It was a useful talent being a translator.

"Merrrow!" With born speed Igglebum shot off into the forest.

"Harry, were you really talking to the Kneazle?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, sure, it's easy if you know how."

"What did he say?" Ginny squealed. "I mean really that was so cool!"

"He was wondering how I'd been and if I was back for this year. He was also curious about you lot. I told him you were okay and that he should bring the rest of them round to meet you. Only Hagrid's met most of them. The kittens should be old enough to venture a bit out of the den now."

"There are kittens?" OWWW! Ginny was going to have to remember that high pitched sounds hurt!

"Yes, Sparkplug, there are kittens. I haven't named them all yet but I'm working on it."

"Don't they already have names?" Hermione looked puzzled.

"Not really. A Kneazle's name is his scent and place in the pride. I know the difference, but it might be more difficult for any of you because some of them even look alike. They had a three calico kittens last year and they all look about the same, so hence all the naming. Your noses aren't strong enough to pick up the differences," Harry shrugged.

"How do you know so much about all this Harry?" Ron asked.

"I grew up with them."

"Like Auntie Arabella?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"I didn't know they had Kneazles in an orphanage."

Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable at this. "Err... well yeah, you see..."

"Could you teach me?" Ginny asked suddenly.

"What now?" Harry looked puzzled. "Teach you what?"

"To talk to them silly. I want to learn. Can you teach me?"

"I don't know. We can try, I suppose. Can you get out of History of Magic? That's usually when I do all my work out here."

"Harry!" Hermione looked shocked. "That's where you've been skiving off to? To frolic in the woods?"

"It wasn't frolicking. It was taking a well deserved break," Harry declared indignantly.

"MEROW!" The sound of a hoarde of felines vocalizing at the same time was enough to startle even Harry who was all too aware of their presence.

"Look at that, there must be..."

"Forty-two with the new kittens and if they haven't lost anyone over the summer. They all came out to meet you... wow." Harry looked amazed.

"Why wouldn't they?" Ginny replied.

"Well, yeh see, the mum don' usually bring the kittens out o' the den much. Leastways not around strangers. You lot, 'cept maybe Harry here, certainly count as strangers," Hagrid wisely stated. "Hmm... looks like it migh' rain in a few minutes here. You might want to get back."

"Certainly not with the chance to see a real Kneazle pride! Do you think it will help us with our Care of Magical Creatures O.W.L?" Hermione said.

"I dunno. Never got that far myself. I do know Professor Kettleburn teaches a day or two about them though," Hagrid replied.

Any further conversation was staunched by the fact that both Ginny and Hermione were engaged in assigning names to each of the Kneazles and enjoying the veritable avalanche of tails, heads and the occasional tongue rubbing against their faces and hands. Harry was involved in a deep conversation with Igglebum, the pride Father and another Kneazle he'd named Pogey. Ron was looking distinctly uncomfortable with all the feline attention. "What's the matter, Ron? Give them a good stroke," Hermione commanded.

"Don't like cats much. More of a dog person, really," he said as he edged towards the door to Hagrid's hut. "Uhh... Hermione it's starting to rain. We might want to get inside soon," Ron said nervously.

"Nonsense. Never let rain get in the way of learning. That's what Professor Sprout always says. Really Ron, just reach out and give them a stroke. It won't kill you," she said exasperatedly.

Any further bickering was cut short by a scream from Ginny. Harry was rolling on the ground struggling with ever contracting robes that had tightened with special attention to his neck. With a choked out 'diffindo' the front of his robes were split just enough to let Harry get a good hold and 'riiiiiiip' the front of his now very tiny robes split down the seams leaving Harry to struggle with his now constricting undergarments as the rainfall increased.

The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Buck-Naked stood there in all his glory panting and suddenly realizing his situation. "Harry, did you bring the cloak?" Hermione asked shielding her eyes.

"Didn't think I'd need it, Hermione," Harry said peevishly. "It isn't every day that one gets pranked this way is it? Would you two stop it!" Harry yelled at the wrestling Weasley siblings. Ron was gallantly trying to clap his hand once more over Ginny's eyes, while she was trying to throw her unwanted innocence-protector off her ocular regions.

"I'll stop when you're back in proper trousers and robes mate!" Ron yelled.

"Oh, for Isis' bouncing..." Harry took off at a dead run bear bean and buck naked. Thinking quickly Harry decided that despite it being a Saturday enough people would be out in the corridors to warrant a different course of action. He'd always fancied rock climbing...

Neville Longbottom was in the middle of having his brain fried. He'd come to his head of house originally for some Transfiguration help. Only the end of the first week and he'd already gotten behind. Unfortunately, asking for a little information from Professor McGonagall on Transfiguration was asking for a little water when dropped in the channel. He felt like he was going to drown, so it was with great pleasure that his favourite teacher interrupted them. "Excuse me Minerva, but I was wondering, is there a new sport here at Hogwarts or has Severus been assigning particularly bizarre detentions again?"

"Neither that I'm aware of Pomona. May I ask why."

"Well, I noticed a student from my Greenhouse,"

"Hardly unusual. They are allowed to roam the grounds," McGonagall interrupted.

"Ah yes, but this particular, and I believe male student if my eyes don't deceive me, was climbing the Gryffindor tower… naked." McGonagall's eyes nearly popped out of her skull. Neville personally thought they might still when she arose and swept quickly and silently out of the room towards the bottom floors of the castle. With Professor Sprout following quickly behind and Neville having a distinct impression of whom it might be following equally as quickly.

Soon all three stood a good distance away and both Professors staring intently for a moment and trying to decide what to do about the boy, climbing the tower.

"He's making good progress. He's another tenth of the way up since I left to get you. If we give him half an hour he might make it."

"I simply cannot condone this sort of thing Pomona! Those are my students and I can't let some... sexual burglar... ransack my students. A Ravenclaw no doubt. I've told Flitwick a hundred times if those kids don't take a break they'll snap. This is what happens, I know it!" she finished shrilly.

"Umm... excuse me, professor, but I don't think that is a Ravenclaw," Neville said softly causing both professors to jump.

"Mr. Longbottom, you shouldn't be here," McGonagall began, and then stopped and considered his statement. "Why don't you think it is a Ravenclaw?" She finished more tamely.

"Erm, from what I saw he's got black hair and he's not big enough to be much over third-year… which means it's Harry and he's trying to get back in."

"Why would you condemn your classmate on no more than having black hair..."

"No Professor," Neville said quietly. "It's just no one I know would be mad enough to try it." McGonagall opened and closed her mouth several times and then resolutely strode back into the castle.

"Was it something I said?" Neville asked downcast.

"My dear boy I certainly hope so, otherwise I'm afraid our dear Transfiguration professor has been hiding a rather strong predilection." Neville stared at Professor Sprout dumbly and when she realized that the joke was both inappropriate and unappreciated she moved quickly to cover it up. "I've a new batch of Muggle-magical crossbreeds that just came in. Would you be able to help me repot some of them?"

At the same time Neville was repotting a plant Ron had never heard of, Harry had finally succeeded in climbing in the dormitory window. Removing his wand from his teeth he quickly found his pants, trousers and robes and was half dressed when a loud throat-clearing drew his attention. Spinning around Harry saw the one person he'd really hoped to avoid. "Cousin, what brings you here?"

oOo

The great rash of practical jokes weren't confined to students or even Harry alone. Ginny was positive Fred and George had something to do with it. Ron wasn't so sure, rightly pointing out that they had never committed a prank after the age of ten that had been potentially life-threatening. While the damage was repaired (Harry had landed detention and Neville had considered getting Obliviated) more mysterious pranks had been happening around school. The Slytherin common room had been filled with inflatable novelties, Lockhart's curlers had been charmed to attack his face and several suits of armour periodically belched and gave rude commentary on the female of the human species. This last one was why Harry was in detention again. A suit of armour had made a particularly foul commentary on _his Human_, not just anyone, but Ginny. The sudden nature of it all caused the armour to be turned to scrap metal within seconds and only by the good grace that Professor McGonagall allowed him to explain saved him from more serious punishment. Currently he was helping his good cousin sort out a mess of old Transfiguration texts.

By his tally thus far he was on track to spend only slightly less time in detention and, apart from Potions, he had ceased losing house points. Hermione was so proud of him she now was working on making him attend History of Magic as well. He'd politely informed her that Thestrals had a better chance of becoming vegetarians. "Mr. Potter I do believe 'Laws of Transfiguration' comes after 'Beginning Animagus Transformations'," McGonagall said. "And I would appreciate that while you are in detention you try not to break anything." Harry stared down at his Professor from the top of a bookshelf he'd climbed to help with the organization. He placed the last of the books in a close alphabetical order and leaped to the floor.

"Mr. Potter, while I do have an inclination towards your fascination with heights and leaping from them, please refrain from doing so in my presence."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Professor. It was just the quickest way down. I'm still not very good at climbing down yet," Harry said forlornly.

"Be that as it may… My heart is not as good as it once was and the additional stress could cause an immediate failure of that organ. In which case you may find yourself with a less understanding Head of House." She gave a pained smile. "Now if you wish, you may go. Detention is up."

Looking out the window the blue sky was beckoning and he'd told Ginny they were going out with the Pride to see the unicorns today. The Pride had taken to Ginny immediately, even without Harry explaining that she was his Human. They had already guessed based on her scent. The Pride Mother was so taken with her that she proclaimed Ginny the newest kitten. Harry laughed at the irony. She couldn't change yet, but he hoped that she could learn eventually and then he could finally share his secret. It wasn't like he could stop once she was Kneazle too.

A rather forceful argument drifted through the early October wind to Harry's acute ears. He closed his eyes to focus the sound better.

"Sod off, Malfoy!"

"Getting feisty, Weasellette? Wouldn't want your daddy to get in trouble again now would we?"

"Leave her alone!" That was Neville. Harry smiled. Neville was dependable and loyal.

"Three on two, and you can hardly use a wand, Squib. I don't think a first year will be too much trouble for us, is she boys?" A dumb chuckle resonated off the castle stones. Harry could feel the adrenaline coursing through his brain. Willing himself to think it through, his resolve never lasted past the first scream. A high pitched rather feminine scream. His Ginny's scream. This was followed by a loud shout and another scream. This time from Professor McGonagall as Harry once again went out the window.

He was halfway down before the thought 'this is a very bad idea' registered. His adrenaline system allowed for only one course of action and that was to get to Ginny as fast as possible. He didn't know if she was hurt, or kidnapped, or possibly being hunted by a pack of rabid Erumpents. One simply didn't know what kind of trouble that girl was getting herself into.

Once the idea that this was bad registered Harry took exactly one tenth of a second to examine his possibilities and decide on the only logical course of action. Aim.

Neville was lying on the ground, not entirely sure what kind of curse he'd been hit with but his face felt like it was on fire and his eyebrows might have been. He wasn't sure what had made him do it, but it wasn't like they knew a Shield Charm and when Malfoy threw a hex at Ron's little sister and he jumped. Jumped straight into the path and now was paying the price. Wasn't that what heroes on the wireless programme always did though? Except in the programme they then pulled out their wands and hexed all remaining fourteen bad guys and took them straight to Azkaban. He couldn't even find his wand at the moment.

Draco grinned maliciously. It was like father bought the sweet shop. He'd hexed the simpering Squib and now he could get Potter's new friend and Weasley's sister. That they were the same person was an added bonus. Crabbe and Goyle advanced quickly behind him. How cute… the Weasley even had her wand out. It was spell-o-taped; did her parents have no shame?

"Where's your precious Potter now? Not here to save you then?" Crabbe and Goyle advanced around Draco's sides which retrospectively was the only thing that saved the blond boy's life as the body of the previously absent and queried-after Harry Potter came slamming down into all three boys knocking them unconscious.

Harry sat up and looked around. How had he gotten here? That's right, through the gravity express right into the best landing pad he could have asked for. Standing carefully he gave an extra vicious kick to Malfoy's face, missing his already broken nose by mere inches. Walking tenderly over he bent down and helped Neville sit up noting the strange gooey formations that had formed on his face. "C'mon mate, we've got to get you to the hospital, and maybe Madam Pomfrey can make sure I didn't break anything. Ginny, lend a hand, I can't shift him on my own at the moment." Ginny quickly composed herself and rushed to help her injured friend to his feet. It was lucky boys didn't get their growth spurts yet, she thought, or Neville would likely be using her head as a crutch.

As the three of them began hobbling back towards the castle gate a very flustered Professor McGonagall rushed out to meet them. "Mr. Potter! What did I tell you about leaping from heights! Into other students. You could have been killed!" she finished quietly.

"Oh no Professor. Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle broke my fall. Very nice about it they were too. Never heard a word of complaint." Harry grinned.

"Please, Professor," Ginny sniffled. "They'd hexed Neville and I don't know what they wanted to do to me! I was so scared until Harry saved me. It wouldn't be right to punish him. He might have saved my life!" Ginny began a full blown crying fit. The sight of a first year in such distress softened the stern teacher's heart just a little.

"Mr. Potter, while I certainly don't condone what you've done, there do seem to be mitigating circumstances. Please escort Mr. Longbottom to Madam Pomfrey before he begins oozing on the flagstones. I'll need to deal with these three," she finished. Trying to reign in the massive smile threatening to break out on his face, Harry rushed Neville quickly into the castle with Ginny's help.

"You can stop the act, Sparkplug," Harry whispered quietly.

"What do you mean, Harry?" she asked quietly. "I was scared."

"Of course you were, but I don't think you were ever close to crying. Thank you for keeping me out of detention." Ginny smiled mischievously and wiped any tears threatening to fall away from her face.

"No problem. I can't let two of my best friends get in trouble, after all."

oOo

Two days later saw the advent of yet another Defence class taught by Harry's second favourite professor. True, since the pixie incident he'd yet to teach them something else, but Harry was hopeful. After all it wasn't as though most students could handle learning advanced magic at such a rapid pace and they certainly weren't comfortable with the man's unorthodox teaching style. Today was the day though, Harry could feel it as he, Ron and Hermione strode into the classroom and Harry casually plunked himself down next to Neville. "Do you really think we're going to do something today?" the timid boy asked.

"Get off it, mate, it isn't like we ever do anything in this class. Not like the git has the brains anyway," Ron snorted.

"Ron! I'm ashamed. He's obviously qualified or Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him." Hermione chastised. "You agree with me right, Harry?"

"Sure. He is a great teacher, look how well he did with the pixies. I imagine he's just waiting for the rest of the class to catch up."

"Great teacher? Pixies? Harry, he let them go. That was it!"

"Brilliant, isn't it?" Harry beamed taking on a misty eyed look. "Trial by fire, like Father always taught. Experience is the best teacher."

"What exactly did that experience teach you, oh wise one?" Ron asked in total disbelief.

"That Pixies are rather quick, but can be caught and are definitely susceptible to head trauma as a means of incapacitation."

"You've either been reading the dictionary again or you've been hanging about with Hermione too much."

"RON!"

"The second, I think," was Harry's only response.

"HARRY!" Hermione shrieked. It seemed she had no friends at the moment.

"What's the matter, Granger? Those other two finally figure out hanging around you is bad for their image? Not that Weasley's could get much worse." The slimy voice of one Draco Malfoy was heard rolling towards the front of the class accompanied by the sniggering of his two less-than-intelligent companions.

"Fancy learning how mashers are made again, Malfoy?" Harry responded, standing on his chair so quickly it was like... magic. The blond boy paled at the memory of his last direct lesson on the laws of gravitational physics and wisely stopped talking before too many other people could ask him what Harry had meant.

Both Harry and Ron's interest were peaked though. "Hermione, what did he mean about our image?"

"Nothing Ron, just some silliness about Muggle-borns and all that," Hermione replied too quickly.

"No, I don't think so," Harry said staring straight at her. "It's got nothing to do with blood. It's something else isn't it?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about Harry," she sputtered quietly.

"You do, and I would like to know what. Is there something Ron or I can do? Maybe Neville?" Harry's toned softened slightly, but retained enough edge to let her know she wasn't getting out of this. Fortunately, Hermione felt, Lockhart swept in at that moment distracting Harry from his inquisitorial duties.

"Good afternoon class. Today we're going to learn about my spectacular defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf. Please open _Magical Me_ to page ninety-eight." The class let out a collective groan. Harry, on the other hand, perked up. Werewolves were like giant magical dogs, dogs that ate Kneazles, dogs that raided Kneazle dens and when bitten the Kneazle would turn into a dog, the darkest of all punishments from Isis. Harry was right, today wasn't going to be a waste.

"Ah, yes, now I'm going to need a volunteer to help act this bit out. Harry, there's a good lad." Harry felt himself compelled to the front of the class on the sheer whiteness of the teeth alone. Hermione once again looked disappointed. "Five points for Gryffindor I think." Lockhart concluded. A good five minutes later found Harry having done nothing more than growl menacingly a few times and howl in a poor imitation of a canid.

"Then I confronted him in his lair... but did he go down easily? I think not! Remember class, werewolves are dangerous and blood thirsty creatures. Don't approach one unless I'm there with you!" Lockhart smiled his dazzling smile again. "I demanded he surrender himself, but instead the brute leapt at me, intent on rending me limb from limb." Harry shambled slowly forward not entirely sure what was expected of him. "No, no Harry. Come at me with the intent to kill! Your classmates need the realism and I'm sure you don't want to short them an education." He smiled brightly again. Harry looked far less sure.

"Professor, are you sure you want me to try to kill you? I might be good at it," Harry said tentatively.

"My boy it's just an expression. Now attack Wagga Wagga Were..." Harry waited until the professor was slightly distracted and then pounced. It was readily apparent the novice professor had not dealt with either Harry or dangerous twelve-year-olds before because he was taken completely by surprise.

Professor McGonagall was on her way to see the headmaster. She'd just had another particularly nasty row with Professor Snape regarding her 'favouritism' towards members of her own house and one Potter in particular. The nerve of the man! She tried to be as impartial as possible and avoid blatant displays of favoritism. Last year she docked her own house two hundred points. One hundred of them came from the same Harry Potter Snape had been complaining about. She was sure that speaking to Dumbledore would do no good; for some reason the Headmaster generally refused to intervene directly with staff disputes and it was often left up to her as deputy headmistress to take care of it.

"AYEEEEEE!" A high pitched feminine scream rent the hallway outside the Dark Arts classroom. Visions of what the incompetent boob of a professor was possibly subjecting his students to now ran through her head and she was determined to stop it at all costs. Ripping the door open with her wand out, she boldly strode into the classroom prepared to stop whatever idiot lesson Lockhart had prepared for the day. Instead, she was greeted with a sight she would treasure, albeit secretly, for the rest of her life.

Atop one Professor Lockhart sat the same Harry Potter she had been defending mere minutes prior. The boy had beaten his professor to a pulp and seemed to have no inclination to stop. 'STUPEFY!' McGonagall shouted, finally rendering the offending student unable to offend for the moment. Several hours, a conversation with multiple professors, thirty points and a detention later, she hoped Harry had possibly learned not to take everything quite so seriously. Striding into her office the Transfiguration Professor slammed the door, locked it, poured herself a very large glass of Ogden's best and proceeded to laugh until her sides hurt.

AN: Wow! Chapter 14 received more feedback than any other chapter before it! My update schedule will be slowing to allow for proper Beta time. I hope you find the improvement in quality worth the wait. I'd like to say a big thank you to everyone who reviewed and if you have any suggestions or scene ideas for anything upcoming please let me know. I am also looking for any quality plot ideas. I have trouble coming up with my own. I'd love to do a soul bond fic, but there are just so many. Anyway, let me know what y'inz think!


	16. Beginnings of Trouble

Ch16 Beginnings of Trouble

Wrangling the truth from Hermione turned out to be tougher than anyone would have thought. It took Harry and Ron nearly a week of constant badgering and surveillance to deduce the logical conclusion and confront her with it. "You've been losing money on dragon races," Harry accused harshly.

"HARRY! That wasn't what we thought. Really Hermione, that wasn't what we thought I swear," Ron sputtered incoherently. Hermione looked too shocked to say anything for the moment.

"Ron, really we discussed this. Just because you're blind to the facts doesn't mean I am. She's been squandering her late parent's enormous fortune on dragon racing, whiskey and seedy pleasures of moral questionability, all the while trying to maintain her respectable facade as Hogwarts' top student," Harry concluded smugly.

Hermione looked equal parts confused and hurt. "H-h-how did you manage to deduce that one?" she began, gathering full force as the ridiculousness of the accusations sank in. "Really dragon racing, seedy pleasures? I'm only twelve for Merlin's sake. Really I have heard some stupid theories from you, Harry Potter, but this has to take the cake. My parents are still alive. They're dentists!"

"It's the only thing that fits, Hermione. And you needn't lie about your parents; it is perfectly understandable. I'm just saying they wouldn't want you to spend your life wallowing like this."

"HARRY! MY PARENTS AREN'T DEAD!" Hermione screamed on the edge of tears.

"They must be, and your debts are piling up quickly to explain your actions."

"WHAT!" she screeched. "Harry has it ever occurred to you that this idea you've had is the most unreasonable, pig-headed idea you've ever come up with?"

Unperturbed, Harry smiled back and replied, "Of course it has. But then if it weren't something so utterly serious and ridiculous to boot you would have come and told Ron and me ages ago so we could help. We really do care, Hermione."

Both Ron and Hermione stared at their friend like he'd grown a second head. Then Hermione sat down on the stairs leading to the boy's dorm and cried. Harry was glad for the late hour and that the rest of the students had gone to bed already. It took Hermione the next half hour to tell her sad story of this year.

Unlike Harry who'd won respectability through Quidditch and Neville who people still credited with winning a hundred points in one night, or even Ron who'd been forgiven his guilt by association, Hermione had done none of this so the other students, Gryffindors especially, had held her personally responsible for their loss of the House Cup the previous year. With the absolution of her partners in crime she'd become more the focus than ever. The idea that these things blow over had not proven true, doubly so because of the effort she'd put forth to maintain both a clean record and top marks in all her classes. Most of the students had taken to simple snide comments in the hallways or making a big show of not sitting near her in the library but there had been a few, Hufflepuffs mostly, that had taken to making the confrontations slightly more direct. If Hermione hadn't been both as hyper-aware as she was and as adept with basic spells, she confessed she'd likely have had a breakdown prior to this.

Ron in an amazing display of emotional depth told her the most honest and true statements he'd ever made. "Hermione, if these pricks keep bothering you, let Harry and me know. We'll tear 'em apart. Won't we, Harry?" A grunt and nod of approval was all that was needed. She broke down in fresh tears and thanked them both for their bravery and loyalty. Afterwards she admonished Ron for his language which set off a fresh spat between the two. So it was with high hopes and a big smile that Harry made his way up to his bed determined to sleep tonight. Tomorrow he'd go out and find the elusive unicorn band. He still hadn't talked to them after the events of last year.

Climbing into his bed Harry felt something off. In all the hubbub and clatter of the past weeks Harry hadn't time to realize it. A funny itch that he couldn't scratch. Rolling on his side he tried to pinpoint it but... it just wasn't that easy. So it was with an uneasy conscience that Harry drifted off to sleep and dreamt fitfully of hunters becoming the hunted and rat faced men stalking him at Hogwarts.

The next few days flew by and now that the boys were aware of the problem Harry was losing them more points than ever. It is as they say, unwise to pounce and pummel a fourth year Ravenclaw outside the Charms classroom, especially when Professor Flitwick is in attendance. When asked to explain himself Harry's response was 'He was bullying Hermione. Bullies upset me in a rather violent manner. People who upset me violently tend to end up that way.' So after several more confrontations two things happened, firstly Harry was looking at the better part of a week and a half detention and secondly, things started becoming more tolerable for the bushy-haired witch. At least when Harry or Ron were about.

It wasn't only fights that were keeping Harry busy, with the arrival of mid-October came a dramatic shift in the weather. Quidditch practices became cold and sloppy and it was on more than one occasion that Harry narrowly avoided Filch and his charge of 'befouling the castle'. Luckily, Mrs. Norris was still wary of him so he didn't have much to fear from the four legged terror. The only two things that made practice bearable were the chance to fly and the fact that Harry had his own cheering section. Most of the time it was only Ginny, but occasionally Hermione and Ron would show, too, if the weather wasn't too poor that day.

The nights though were what Harry lived for. He'd forgotten the thrill of hunting under the full moon and now that the Hogwarts Pride had taken a brighter view of him, Harry often had companions for his expeditions. Tonight was no exception. Harry's paws traversed the mud-soaked ground with ease. The swampy goo made a slight squishing sound that made all Kneazles cringe. Noise was their enemy and no matter the situation, it could alert predator or prey to their location and both could be a Kneazle's undoing.

Harry and his compatriots had been unable to find even a mouse tonight. It seemed that all the prey was hunkering down in their holes. Harry didn't blame them, he could feel the rain coming but he pressed on. The deeper he trekked into the woods the darker and more oppressive the atmosphere. The other Kneazles stuck close to the human-slayers side, tonight wasn't fit for Kneazle or beast to be out but the adventure promised by hunting with their newest Pridemate was unmistakable.

Harry had grown frustrated and he knew his companions were uneasy at being this far from their den. Harry turned sharply and with a flick of his tail gave the signal they were heading back and he felt the tension drain out of both his fellow hunters. Harry hadn't gone ten meters when he felt a familiar presence. Facing the disturbance and crouching low he let out a resounding meow and the emotional equivalent of a shout.

_'Over here! What are you doing hiding?'_

With their cover blown out stepped several unicorns and one without a horn. The foal from last year had finally gained his colouring. Harry was pleased that he'd made it this far. The black Kneazle's fur immediately fluffed up into a poor imitation of a porcupine and a pygmy puff as one more... male... unicorn stepped out into view. Harry's tail was swishing madly and his two companions were crouched low and tight, waiting for the moment to spring.

_'Who's this? What's he doing here?' _Harry's confusion was evident.

_'Easy, easy. This is__ Ponil. He is our new stallion,' _The matriarch said, shaking her mane.

_'I'm sorry about Ferd. I tried, I really did.'_

_'We know. Thank you. We wished to thank you earlier but we withdrew from this place for mourning. We have come back to our home range now and it is time for our debt to be paid.'_

_'No debt is necessary. I wish I could have done more.'_

_'We don't know the motives of the thing that killed Ferd, but we owe you more than you will ever know. When a monster kills one of us it is a terrible thing. You have prevented another such atrocity. We __**DO**__ owe you and we will repay. In your time of darkest need, when your friends are nowhere about and death stands around you, we will be there. A shield of light will stand between the prize and the grave. We owe you so we bless you. Ferd said that you were destined for great or terrible things, we think that question has been answered now. You are a friend of these unicorns and will be a friend to all.'_

With the parting remark all four of the magnificent white creatures bowed low on one knee, stood and galloped into the forest.

_'Weird__,'_ Came the only comment from Igglebum.

_'Never try to get a straight answer out of a unicorn. They're rather confusing... MOUSE!'_ At that all three of them charged into the underbrush after the elusive prey, the cryptic unicorn blessing forgotten.

oOo

Quidditch practice was going well. The Chasers were chasing, the Beaters were beating and the Keeper was keeping. The only member of this flawlessly functioning formation not working his hardest was the youngest Seeker in a century and Oliver Wood was having none of it. "POTTER! Over here now!" He shouted. Harry dutifully flew next to his captain who artfully deflected a combination attack from the gorgeous trio as Wood privately thought of them. "Potter, what's going on out there? You've missed the Snitch twice now. If you play like that on game day we're going to get flattened. No disrespect to our lovely Chasers," he added quickly. "Everyone else is pouring their soul into this except you. That isn't like you, Potter. I know your fan club isn't here today but you'll have to make do. Now get out there and catch the damn Snitch!" he roared.

Harry quickly turned his broom and rocketed back towards the middle of the pitch, except it didn't stop. The brakes were out, or the charms were jinxed. At the moment Harry neither knew nor cared what the problem was. He just knew that his fantastic broom, the pride of his wardrobe, wouldn't stop. He kept accelerating until he was sure he was close to top speed. Harry could vaguely hear the shouts of an angry Oliver and the horrified gasps of the gorgeous trio, and the sniggers of Fred and George. Of course they would find this funny. They probably put the jinxes on the broom!

"Potter! Stop! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Wood shouted.

"Can't-Stop-Broom-Jinxed!" Harry shouted as he was doing loops around the pitch. Oliver privately thought the boy would be lucky to stay on for another five minutes if he didn't break the sound barrier first.

"Katie, go get McGonagall and Madam Hooch if you can manage! We need our Seeker in suitable condition not smeared on the pitch."

Katie rocketed towards the fourth floor hoping desperately to find her Head of House. Harry on the other hand was getting a little tired of hanging on. Brooms are difficult to affix one's self to when sitting and get easier when moving however even the best of fliers have a difficult time hanging on at top speed on an international Quidditch broom like the Nimbus 2000 for more than a few minutes. Harry was nearing his limit when he saw one of his teammates take off for the castle.

'Are they really abandoning me? I didn't think that I was flying that badly.' A split second decision was made and Harry banked hard rising out of the pitch and streaking after Miss Bell.

"Looks like Harry's in love," George cackled.

"Shut it you two! This is serious. If he gets hurt we'll be out of the running for the Slytherin match and maybe for the whole season," Oliver glared at the twins. "Nothing for it. Let's get after him."

"Oliver, are you mental? Harry's the best flyer we've got on the best broom we've got. You really think we can catch him?" Fred asked shocked.

"No, but we might be able to catch him when he falls," Wood replied. "Now let's go team!"

Harry wasn't terribly thrilled with the plan he came up with, but it was the best he had. Step one: fly by an open window. Step two: jump. Step three: grab and climb in the open window and hope you don't die. Grasping the broom tightly in his hands Harry steered it to the nearest window visible and with cat-like grace he jumped from the broom to window. 'THWACK!' The resounding sound of meat hitting stone and the crunching of several bones resonated throughout the tower Harry now found himself painfully climbing into. Chancing a glance outside he saw his broom had stopped mid air and was hovering as though waiting for another rider crazy enough to try.

Holding his aching side Harry could feel the wetness of fresh blood staining his robes as he dragged himself through the large stone room. A series of four-poster beds adorned with blue and silver and sporting pictures of some of the best known heart-throb wizards surrounded him. Fortunately, the room was empty because, if Harry was not mistaken this was the Ravenclaw tower, and he didn't think they'd appreciate him intruding. Forcing the change had never been so painful before. It was as though his entire side was on fire for the brief second between human and Kneazle form. He limped slowly towards the stairs, but stopped when he heard a series of voices approaching. A gaggle of the Ravenclaw girls walked in obviously straight from the bath as they were still wrapped in towels and giggling from whatever mysterious happenings girls in baths have that fascinate the male of the species.

Harry tried to bolt into a dark corner where his natural camouflage would work to his advantage, but it is rather difficult to bolt when your right side feels like it's coming off and then a set of gentile female hands wrenches you from the floor and into a horrible... horribly comfortable lap.

"Julia, come look at this! It's a cat."

"Penelope, I'd put that down. That's a Kneazle!"

"I know that, but I don't see why he's so dangerous."

"Really don't you pay attention at all during Care of Magical Creatures? They're quite big and rather finicky and they don't like to be held by anyone except their owner. I bet that one is wild, so I'd put him down before he bites you or something," Julia scolded, getting dressed quickly. Harry was quite inclined to agree until the blond one called Penelope began petting him. Against all his better judgment his purr box betrayed him with a deep rumble as she stroked his back and rubbed his ears. He almost forgot about his aching side until another girl roughly disturbed his sensual pleasures.

"Doesn't look like much to me. I wouldn't touch it anymore, likely has fleas."

"MEROWWW!" Harry screamed. Firstly his ribs were in agony and secondly he did not have fleas!

"Meg, you're hurting him!" Penelope replied quickly snatching him from offending hands before he could put claws and teeth to good use. Harry found the petting to be resumed at an increased rate and held at just the right angle so he didn't feel like killing something. His body was pressed against the girl's towel-clad form and his head found a unique resting place on her more than ample bosoms.

"Penny, just because the Gryffindors can't get enough of your sweater cows doesn't mean cats are affected the same way. Even if he is a boy," Meg said rolling her eyes. "And no you can't keep him."

"But I wasn't going to! He just seemed so helpless and lost. I wanted to make sure this little guy is doing okay." Harry felt himself submerging deeper and deeper into the girl's dirty pillows and he wasn't sure if suffocation was worth it... it might just be. "Oh no! He's bleeding."

"So? They'll take care of themselves," Meg said flippantly. Harry liked the bespectacled girl less and less.

"Cheating on Percy with that handsome devil? He'll need to be told," Julia said mischievously.

"Shut it, you," Penelope said quickly removing her towel and rummaging for her clothes and getting dressed haphazardly.

"PENNY! Modesty please," Her roommates scolded. Harry for his part said nothing. Naked women he decided were pretty... pretty damn awesome. He wasn't sure if Mum and Father would find his ogling a human female acceptable, but he realized something very, very important. What the parents don't know won't hurt them. Smiling and increasing his rumbling purr Harry decided today was good. Ignoring his protesting side he snuggled into the arms of the Ravenclaw prefect as she carried him out the common room entrance and down several flights of stairs. Harry wasn't sure what made him look up but he saw a sight that actually scared him. Percy Weasley was approaching with a twinkle in his eye and a crooked toothy grin. He straightened his glasses and walked quickly over to girl and Kneazle.

"Penny..." He said with a combination of teenage hormones in his voice so pronounced it was practically deafening.

"Perc, I can't talk. I found this little guy in our dormitory. I've got to take him to Madam Pomfrey. I think he's hurt badly," she said gingerly exposing the still bleeding patch on Harry's ribs.

"Perc please!" she pleaded trying in vain to push her way awkwardly around her larger boyfriend.

"Just a little kiss, Penny. Please?" He bent down low, and was rewarded with a swift paw to the chops.

"YEOW! The little bugger got me!" Percy yelped.

"You're unfamiliar to him, Perc. Please he's in pain and I need to get him looked at."

Standing on her toes she gave Percy a quick peck and began to walk away. Harry gave Percy a smug smile of victory and in that moment they locked eyes. A plain understanding rushed across the other boy's face and he turned quickly on his heel and strode away.

Ten minutes later Harry was alone with Professor McGonagall lying on a hospital bed with his ribs thoroughly bandaged. "Mr. Potter, I do wish I could figure out how in the world you keep getting into these situations," she sighed exasperatedly.

"Well, Professor, I think my broom was jinxed."

"That's what Miss Bell and Mr. Wood said as well."

"What did the twins have to say about it?" Harry asked. He could remember all too clearly the cackling laughter.

"They seemed to find it amusing," McGonagall replied in a disapproving tone.

"Professor, Hermione told me last year that it was very difficult to jinx a broom. Is that true?"

"From certain perspectives, yes. As you learned last year active jinxes that require a caster's concentration and willpower can have some effect but a passive jinx, which this would seem to be, would require a wizard of exceptional talent. I seriously doubt even the legendary Weasley twins would be capable of pulling a stunt like this without some very advanced help."

"But it could be done?"

"By a professor maybe, a professional curse breaker certainly, and maybe a few of the nastier residents of Knockturn alley, but by two school children I sincerely doubt it."

"I wasn't so much thinking of them professor..."

"Ah yes, Mr. Wood may have been thinking along the same lines, but may I assure you that no Slytherin student would have the capability or opportunity to meddle with your broom, Mr. Potter. Now, I do have something very important to impress upon you. Firstly, while Madam Pomfrey did seem to accept the story I've given her as to how you arrived without her notice, I would encourage you to find her on your own time and explain your unique circumstances to her in the near future. I fear that these mishaps you've had are not mere accident and chance. If you continue your current lifestyle I'd place money that you'll be here again and it might avoid a few awkward questions when the time arrives. Yes, the Headmaster is aware of this as well and gives his full approval. I believe you will find her very discreet."

"I'll think about it," Harry said sullenly. It did his mood no good to realize that he was being encouraged to divulge his greatest secret to a near complete stranger while his Human still had no idea as to his true nature.

"Secondly, a ride in Miss Clearwater's bosom is a dream that no young man has yet to realise. Please keep your silence on this matter for both your sakes. Now I believe you have some anxious people waiting to see you," Professor McGonagall said and strode briskly out of the room. An explosion of impassioned friends and Quidditch allies flooded the nearly deserted hospital wing. Everyone was curious how Harry had managed to pull off his spectacular escape from his out-of-control broom, which Harry was all too pleased to tell them.

"How could someone jinx your broom though?" Alicia asked.

"Bet it was Flint," Fred said darkly.

"You mean it wasn't you?" Ron asked surprised.

"No, it wasn't, Ronniekens," Fred replied quickly. "At least I don't remember doing it, and cursing an international Quidditch broom is something I think I'd remember. What about you George?"

"It was me," George said deadpan. The rest of the team along with Ron and Hermione glared daggers at him.

"Really, I don't think this is the time for jokes!"

"It was bloody hilarious though, Oliver," George said.

"Even you have to admit that," Fred finished.

"There is nothing about cursing our best Quidditch weapon that I find funny. We're going to have a hard enough time facing the snakes with their top of the line brooms without the loss of Harry."

"Easy, mate, it was just good for a laugh that was all." A few more questions until the final one came up.

"Harry, which window did you go into exactly?" Ron asked curiously.

"I think it was sixth year Ravenclaw's."

"On that side of the tower... Merlin above! Harry did you know you ended up in the girl's dorm?" Wood demanded.

"Wicked! Did you see anything?" George asked.

"Were they topless pillow fighting or something like that?" Fred continued, both twins oblivious to the looks of disgust that were emanating from their chasing squad.

"No, ermmm… there wasn't anyone about when I made it in."

"How'd you escape without getting caught though?"

"Trade secrets, Ron," Harry said with a smile causing the twins to laugh loudly.

"Harry, seriously, how? You always say 'trade secrets' or something like that!"

"Fine," Harry huffed. "I turned into a Kneazle and was carried out in the cleavage of a gorgeous angel where I was treated by Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey, happy?"

"If you're going to lie, Harry, the least you can do is come up with a believable one," Ron sulked, causing the twins to burst into a fresh round of laughter. A bustling Madam Pomfrey finally came over and shooed the well-wishers out of the room citing the need for rest.

Six hours later Harry was finally able to sneak out of the confines of his bed and quietly made his way back to the common room. Only Hermione was still up laboriously pouring over her Potions text.

"Hermione, that essay isn't due till next week."

"Which is only a few days away, I might remind you Harry. I didn't hear you come in."

"You weren't meant to. Why still revising? Are they teasing you again? Do I have to sort them out?" Hermione looked up sharply.

"No, no, no. Nothing like that. People have been decent enough to me since word has gotten around about what happens. I never did thank you for that, by the way."

"Nothing for it, Hermione. Just what I do."

"Are you really a Kneazle Harry?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"W-w-what! Why would you think that?" Panic began to rise in his chest, had she figured his secret out?

"Well, if you were, it would explain so much, you know? Then I looked up what was required and I don't think even you could become an Animagus. You would have had to do that before we even started Hogwarts."

"Yeah, stupid idea. Have you seen Ginny?" Harry said quickly changing the subject.

"Just at meals, once or twice around the common room. She's always in her dormitory. I don't go in, respect for privacy and all that. Why? You're closer with her than I am."

"I know, but I haven't seen her except for meals the past few days and she's looking paler and more worn out. She's talking less and just seems tired all the time. Do you think she's sick?"

"Could be, how long has it been going on?" Hermione said, reverting into diagnosis mode.

"A week or so, maybe two."

"If it doesn't clear up in another I'd take her to see Madam Pomfrey."

"Thanks, sounds about right. I hope she listens. She's always been stubborn," he trailed off.

"There you go again, Harry."

"What?" he asked, deer in the headlights look in clear evidence.

"I almost think you're normal and then you go and mess it up. How do you know she's always been stubborn? You've referenced Ron's family more than you ever have anyone you've known growing up and I just don't understand. You're like no boy I've ever met."

"How do you know Ron didn't tell me?" He shot back defensively.

"Firstly, because you asked, secondly because I already asked Ron and you and he don't talk much about anyone's family." She stood and bore down on him with the look of victory in her eye. "One of these days I'll figure you out," and scooping up her book she strode away. Harry felt like a mouse that had just been scooped up by a hawk, but didn't know enough to stop fighting.

oOo

"Ginny, are you under the weather again?" Harry asked concerned. They were walking quickly across the grounds from a pleasant visit with the Kneazles and tea with Hagrid. Hagrid was pleased to hear that the unicorns had been spotted in the forest, but something had been bothering Ginny all day, much longer than that, but particularly today.

"No, Harry, I'm fine. Tea was fun. We should do that more often," she smiled weakly.

"Sparkplug, you're not fooling me. What's wrong, really? I can't help if I don't know."

"Leave it be, Paws, please? I've just not been feeling myself recently. Tired and a little defeated," she used her biggest brown kitten eyes and Harry reluctantly let the matter rest for the moment.

"Fine, but you'll tell me sooner or later," he said with finality. He'd sworn to look after her and that was exactly what he was going to do.

"You're sounding more like Hermione every day," she giggled. Harry couldn't help but smile, it'd been too long since he'd heard her really laugh.

"Looking forward to the Halloween feast?" he asked gently. For a human celebration even Harry had to admit it was a good time.

"Oh yeah! I've never been to one before of course, but Fred and George talk all about them. Ron always goes on about the food. I even remember Bill saying something about it a few times." For one solitary moment whatever was bothering her seemed to vanish and a smile lit up her whole face. Then it vanished as soon as it arrived, the weight of some unknown personal sorrow crashing back down on her shoulders like an invisible wave breaking over a sandcastle. Harry vowed to watch her more carefully. He'd made that mistake with Hermione. He wouldn't repeat it with Ginny.

Climbing through the portrait hole Harry could smell the delicious scents wafting from the kitchens. Seeing Hermione and Ron noticed their return. "Mate, where've you been? We've been looking for you!"

"Nowhere important. Here and there, Ron. Ginny and I went to see Hagrid and met some friends of mine around the forest."

"Harry, why didn't you tell us? I'd have gone you know," Ron said hotly, interrupting whatever Hermione was ready to say.

"Do I have to tell you everywhere I'm going? Your sister looked like she could use a friend and I was going down there anyway. We'll go another time."

"Harry, you've been avoiding us!"

"I have not," he said defensively. Harry's hackles were beginning to rise. Who did Ron think he was? Harry didn't have a keeper and Ron was beginning to become more than a little irritating.

"We've not been down to see Hagrid together since you climbed the tower starkers and you're always disappearing off to Merlin knows where. You've been hanging about with my sister like she's the second coming or something! What's going on? Where's the Harry that fought a troll with us and smuggled dragons off the top tower? Do you have a new partner now? You don't need us?" Ron's voice reached a crescendo as his tirade concluded. Harry for his part merely glared darkly at his best male friend. Hermione glanced back and forth between the two boys, threw her hands up in the air and rolled her eyes _'boys!'_ she thought. Not that she didn't agree with Ron, but there were better ways of going about it.

"Ron, I've been worried about her. There's something off or haven't you noticed? Isis Ron, she's your sister! Why am I the only one who seems to care? I'm sorry we haven't been spending every waking moment together but I've been with you and Hermione for all our classes! Well except History, but I've never stuck around much for that. I thought you'd understand," Harry's temper was compounded with his worry for his human and all patience was dangerously close to evaporating.

"Gee Harry I'm sorry I wanted to spend some time with my best mate! I thought we were friends. Merlin almighty."

"Bite my tail…. See you later," Harry spun on his heel and turned and walked out the portrait hole and strode down out the front doors of the school ignoring both the rapidly setting sun and the approaching feast. The electrical charge came faster than Harry even expected and he stumbled momentarily before bounding out to the forest to kill something tasty and eat it. Running without thinking, one could meet the most interesting people Harry found, or in this case Kneazles. Orriba was a large calico-coloured Kneazle, she had a tendency to outsize some of her male siblings and so had taken a habit of hunting alone.

_'Going somewhere?'_ she asked curiously. The feeling causing Harry to skid to a stop mere inches from having a head to rib collision.

_'Nowhere in particular. Just out to think__,'_ Harry replied.

_'You're agitated. Why?'_ Knowing it was useless to lie, Harry explained (as best he could) the row he'd had with Ron.

_'You're headed hunting__, no?'_ Harry nodded. _'I'll come. Hunting and eating are two things that clear my mind.'_ Harry smiled, Kneazles always understood. Several hours, one vole, a rabbit and three mice later Harry and Orriba were heading back to the castle.

_'May I suggest something__, cousin?'_ Orriba asked gently.

_'Of course. Cousin counse__l is always welcome.' _

_'We are not your pride,__'_ Orriba growled forcefully to quiet Harry's protestations. _ 'We aren't, but in your grace you don't recognise the lines. A Pride is what you make of it. Mum and Father accept you and your human as part of us. You need all the Pride you can have. Don't ignore them; you'll need them before you know it. I always do. Make peace and recognize your folly. You would do it for us.'_ With that and a quick bath Orriba was gone. Harry thought and thought and thought some more. She was unfortunately right. Rather infuriating in her logic not unlike Hermione or even Ginny, must be a female thing.

He shouldn't let a fight come between himself and Ron. He was Harry's friend after all, and to a point he supposed the other boy was right he had been ignoring them. Not that he was going to choose, but he would make more of an effort to include Ron and Hermione in his and Ginny's adventures. It wasn't really fair to exclude them after all. Trotting back to the castle he could hear the feast. He was full, but there was always room for pudding. He'd find Ron there, and try to find something to say. He'd never really had to... apologise before. Being human certainly did have a rather steep learning curve sometimes.

Wandering back to the castle the door Harry found the door propped slightly open and made his way stealthily inside. Walking towards the Great Hall doors Harry stopped dead in his tracks as he heard a bone chilling voice.

'...rip...tear...kill…" The voice was headed distinctly upwards. A split second decision saw Harry ignoring the allure of pudding and racing up the nearest set of stairs.

'_blood… so hungry… so long… Blood… I SMELL BLOOD!'_ Following the sound upwards Harry felt his sense of dread grow. Was the speaker invisible? Was it some kind of ghost that didn't worry about walls? He was sure he'd feel any sort of otherworldly spirit. He remembered what Nick and the Baron felt like after all. Where was this voice coming from?

As suddenly as he'd heard it the voice died away once again, but his relief was short lived. Dimly in the back of his mind Harry recognized the sound of the feast letting out and feet climbing the stone stairs, but he couldn't move. In front of him was the grizzliest scene he'd seen in a long while. Mrs. Norris stood still as a statue, and written in blood on the wall was a chilling message

'The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened Once Again

Enemies of the Heir Beware!'

She was dead. Harry was sure of it, and though they never got along on a feline level he certainly didn't wish her dead. Walking slowly forward he touched the wall where the blood had been painted and sucked briefly on his fingers. Thank Isis! It was only chicken blood he was afraid for a moment that he'd wandered in on a dark wizard ritual. They always seemed to involve virgin Kneazles, dark moonless nights and very pointy objects. While Mrs. Norris might not qualify for any of the above (save possibly a virgin, but house cats were randy, promiscuous buggers so he wouldn't bet money on that) Harry certainly could be used to fulfill any of the above mentioned ritual requirements.

He gently stepped down to scoop her into his arms, even this cousin, as unpleasant as she was, didn't deserve to be ogled at like a museum display. She was cold and stiff, which was to be expected from any corpse… but not dead. Harry had seen enough death to know the difference and he could feel the spark of life, small as it might be, still residing in her chest.

Suddenly the corridor exploded into life. The students had caught up with him and in a most compromising position. Looking quickly around there were no windows within immediate availability to facilitate his escape. He was trapped holding a very dead-looking Mrs. Norris. Could it get any worse?

"What have you done? You've killed my cat, boy, you've killed her!" Filch screeched as he advanced menacingly towards Harry. Yes, apparently it could.

Still cradling the frozen cat Harry stepped backwards quickly and bumped into a very solid body. Spinning he locked eyes with the piercing eyes of Professor Snape and the concerned gaze of his Head of House.

"Potter, you'll come with me," Professor Snape said coldly. Harry could detect the barely suppressed glee in his voice. He didn't know what he'd done to earn the hook-nosed bastard's enmity, but Harry didn't like it.

"Come, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said with only slightly more warmth.

Harry could hear a scuffle in the hallway behind him and the loud distinctive voice of the only Malfoy in residence. "Enemies of the Heir beware. You'll be next Mudblood!"

The squeaky voice of Professor Flitwick could be heard verbally flogging the boy a minute later, which at the moment was the only thing that made Harry smile.

An impending sense of doom washed over him as he once again walked to the Headmaster's office. Only this time it felt like the walk of a condemned man. They'd never believe he didn't do it. Hardly more damning evidence could be found short of the Headmaster himself walking in on Harry performing the incantation. He had neither reasonable alibi nor any compatriots to swear he didn't do it.

Harry's hearing and concentration zoned in and out as Filch railed against the boy who killed his cat. Looking up suddenly a reckless gleam in his eye Harry met the care takers cantankerous gaze and said very firmly, "She's not dead."

"YES SHE IS!" He screeched.

"She might be cold and lifeless, but she's not dead. Mr. Filch, when you've seen as much death as I have, you learn to differentiate. She's not dead."

Both Filch and Snape stood open-mouthed at the audacity of the boy while McGonagall merely smiled.

"I would have to concur with Mr. Potter's diagnosis," Dumbledore began. "I believe she is merely Petrified. Between Professors Sprout and Snape they'll be able to set her to rights again."

"Not dead?" Filch said again.

"No Argus. Not dead, in fact very much alive. Merely Petrified," Dumbledore finished.

"Then this boy Petrified my cat!" Filch screeched again. "I want him flogged, and expelled and then flogged again!" he ranted.

"Argus, calm down," Dumbledore's gaze grew steely. "No second year student, even a very adept one such as Mr. Potter could have the knowledge to perform a curse as dark as this, and believe me this is a very dark curse."

Harry almost breathed a sigh of relief, and then Professor Snape started talking.

"While I am inclined to agree with you Headmaster," that was never good. Snape never said anything good on Harry's behalf. "Perhaps the question we should be asking is why Mr. Potter was in that particular corridor alone during a feast. Especially when it was noted that so many of his compatriots were missing as well," others were missing from the feast? Who? Harry had seen Hermione, but she'd been conspicuously alone.

"I… Well I…" Harry faltered. How to explain the disembodied voice? That was wrong even for Kneazles to hear. Lying wasn't any use; chances are they wouldn't believe him anyway.

"I had a bit of a row with R… friends of mine," no sense giving away more secrets to the bat like man than need be. "So I took a walk on the grounds. When I came back I was heading for the tower."

"You weren't hungry? Your absence was noted at the feast," Snape said silkily.

"No sir, I ate in the forest."

"Excuse me?"

"I ate in the forest. I didn't have to go too far in though. I think the rain has finally started flooding the burrows."

Snape's eyes were slitted in apparent rage or disgust, either way it put a smug expression on Harry's face. It was amazing what humans wouldn't believe even when you were telling them the truth. They couldn't be upset with him for lying and Professor McGonagall surely would understand.

"And what exactly did you eat, Potter?" Snape's distain for Harry rapidly becoming more apparent with his rising levels of irritation.

"Rabbit mostly. It's really good, you should try it sometime," Harry flashed his most innocent smile.

"Headmaster, I don't know what games…"

"Severus," Professor McGonagall cut him off. "While I'm sure that Mr. Potter's rather eccentric eating habits may concern you; that is hardly the reason we're here. It has been firmly established that Mr. Potter had nothing to do with the petrification of Argus's cat and I don't see any reason to keep either Mr. Filch or Mr. Potter here any longer."

"Before he goes, I do have one other… relevant question if you will," Snape ground out. A curt nod from Dumbledore overrode any other objections in the room. "Why was he holding the victim, if truly he had nothing to do with it?" Harry met Snape's probing eyes with a steely unflinching glare of his own.

"Because Professor, despite any animosity in our relationship I didn't feel that she should be left on display like a piece in a museum. I have more… humanity than that." _Humanity_ the word felt foreign on his tongue. It was the first time he'd really admitted out loud that he might not be one hundred percent Kneazle. The thought made him feel dirty. "Is there anything more?"

"No, my boy, not unless you can remember anything else you may have missed or possibly left out?"

"There was water on the floor. I don't know if that helps," Harry replied flippantly. "Perhaps it was a plumber. Can I go, Professor?"

"As you wish, Mr. Potter."

Standing quickly Harry sprinted back to the Gryffindor common room where he was greeted with near silence. Near silence because while everyone else was giving him strange looks and staying very quiet Ron and Hermione were once again having a very heated conversation.

"I just want to know where you were, Ron!"

"And I told you it's lad's stuff! I don't think you need to know everywhere I've been!"

"With the writing on the wall and half your family missing from the feast it's going to look very suspicious that's all!"

"Wait, who else was missing?" Ron's tone went instantly from angry to worried. Harry knew for all his bluster Ron was the one who worried about all his brothers and sister the most.

"Well, if you'd been there you'd know. Percy was the only one to show up. The twins were likely out pranking, I heard Ginny was up in her room and Merlin only knows where you were," Hermione finished.

"And what about me?" Harry asked snidely causing the squabbling pair to jump.

"Mate! Where've you been? I've been looking all over for you."

"So that's why you weren't at dinner!" Hermione crowed. Ron merely shot her a dirty look.

"Ermm… Harry, can we go talk. You know, bloke stuff," he said uneasily.

"I don't think that's really necessary Ron," Hermione rebuffed.

"Sure, I'll see you upstairs in a minute," Harry replied fixing his steely eyes on Hermione as Ron turned and bounded up the stone stairs to his refuge of sleep and privacy. "Before you start, I have two questions." Harry said, interrupting what he judged to be a tirade about insensitivity or some such. "One do I need to kill him, and two where's Ginny?"

Hermione for all her mental aptitude could only stare blankly with an open mouth. "Do you need to kill who?" she asked softly.

"Draco, he called you a Mudblood again. Don't deny it; my ears are too good for that shite."

"Language, Harry… No, why would you need to kill him? It's a foul name for certain but it's only a name. I've been called worse, I'm sure, and I'm determined that I won't let him get to me."

"Fine, but if he does it again I'm going to break something on him. Now, where's Ginny? You said she wasn't at dinner."

"She wasn't, but one of the other girls said they saw her sobbing into her pillow. I don't know why. She normally seems so… normal."

"I see. I've to talk to Ron, but I'll be up after that to check on Ginny and you can interrogate me then." Harry said determinedly.

"Wait, what? Where were you?"

"Interrogate me later, Hermione. I've not the time."

Resolutely striding into the room he and Ron shared with the other second-year boys, Harry felt the anger coming back. He forcefully pushed it away, determined to hear what Ron had to say before exploding. Sitting on his bed was an ashen-faced Ron who looked far more worried than he had earlier. Thankfully, no one else was in the room.

"What do you need, Ron?" Despite Harry's initial decision to give the other boy a chance his words came out icily.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I acted like a prat, you know?"

"Yeah, I do and I agree. What are you going to do about it?" Harry responded in a more thawed manner.

"I'm just… really sorry, Harry. I know I shouldn't be jealous or anything, but you've not spent any time with Hermione or me. Not even really with Neville. I was just pissed off. You spend all your time with Ginny and we don't get to see you anymore. I just thought we were friends." Ron seemed slump after his emotional outpouring. Harry stood and walked within a foot of his friend.

"Ron, we are friends. You, me, Hermione, Neville, we're all friends. Ginny's new, she needs some looking after. She's always needed looking after… I suspect," Harry added quickly. "I'm sorry we haven't been including you, I just didn't think you'd want to hang about with your baby sister. You're always going on about it."

Ron laughed weakly. "Yeah, I suppose I am. You're wrong about one thing, though. She never needed looking after. She's always been more independent than Mum wants her to be. 'Course, she always had that damn Kneazle watching out for her, too. I've told you about him?" Harry nodded. "Big black bugger. You know, sometimes I swear I see him around the grounds. Especially when we're in History, I'll see him coming. Mad I know, but I swear I do. Anyway, I guess I understand," he finished gloomily.

"Hey, cheer up. I'm sorry I haven't been inviting you too, you know. If you'd like, we're going to see Hagrid after the match next Saturday. Let Hermione and Neville know, and you're all welcome to come. I think it'd be great. I know Neville and Ginny get along well and Hermione has said some things about her." Harry smiled broadly and Ron returned it.

"I think I'd like that. Sounds like a plan. We'll meet you outside the changing rooms."

"Sounds good," and for once Harry's feral grin appeared without anyone being seriously injured.

_AN: Okay! Here is chapter 16, I hope everyone enjoys it and it is worth the wait. I must say thank you to everyone who reviewed. My reviews are exploding in volume! Now two orders of business for you. First, any suggestions for year three or beyond will be appreciated and taken into consideration. Some of my best plot points came from other people. Secondly, I am working on __another idea for a story. It would be a Year 5 and beyond story with crossover elements from the World of Darkness RPG's. Essentially Harry becomes enraged (as usual) at aunt Marge, however instead of simply blowing her up, Harry discovers a piece of lost heritage. He is a Werewolf. Now this is where the crossover point comes in because unlike traditional werewolves, to whom their burden is a curse, Harry's is much more a gift as he can change anytime he wants and especially when he is angry. Would anyone find this sort of thing interesting? By no means am I abandoning Kneazle or the Becoming Human series (GUK and its counterparts) but I thought this might be something different to read. If it has been done, would someone please let me know so I might take a look at it? Anyway, To These Things You Must Return. _

_A side note: My update schedule will be every two weeks until the end of book 2. Book 3 should see the resuming of every week updates. I have to give my Betas a break. They've been so good._


	17. Thieves and House Elves

Ch 17 Thieves and House Elves

"Would you look at this? This is the most complex potion I think I've ever seen. It has some really rare ingredients, too. Most of these things won't be too bad; we can get them from the potion cabinet but look at this, Boomslang skin and Bicorn Horn. The lacewings have to be stewed for twenty one days," Hermione ranted.

"You know, I'm still not totally convinced Malfoy's the one doing it," Harry murmured.

"Well, who else could it be, mate?" Ron puzzled. "He's in Slytherin, his whole family has been in Slytherin. He's as likely an heir as anyone. Anyway, you were the one going on about killing the ponce."

"Yeah, but that was out of principle. I don't know if he actually is any Heir of Anybody except for possibly the Ferret King," Harry replied defensively.

"Well, that is what we're going to find out," Hermione replied decisively.

"Do you think we can trust Neville and Ginny not to rat us out?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"With our lives Ron. Ginny already knows what is at stake and Neville wouldn't tell a soul if he thought Malfoy was involved. He's a stand up chap, Longbottom is," Harry smiled fondly.

"We're going to have to steal an awful lot. From Snape's private stores no less," Hermione frowned.

"Leave that to me," Harry grinned. Getting around the castle was a snap. How hard could this be?

"You know, Harry, none of this would really be necessary if you just knocked Malfoy off his broom tomorrow," Ron pointed out.

"Hmmm... tempting. Very tempting."

oOo

Saturday came and with it the first Quidditch match of the year. As always Oliver began with his standard, impassioned pre-game speech, designed to rally the troops to new heights of achievement. Harry could feel the tension in his teammates as they walked onto the pitch. Everyone knew that it was speed against skill for this match. The best brooms money could buy competing against the previous year's reigning champions. Not very many people had given Gryffindor much of a shot at winning. It was widely accepted that, especially in Seeker contests, speed wins. Harry was determined to prove them wrong. The blond puppy he was flying against had no hunting instincts, no previous Quidditch experience and certainly no practice in dodging the iron Bludgers that came rocketing around the pitch. Harry's determination was only increased by his promise to Cousin McGonagall to 'teach the snakes what a real hunter can do'. Harry smiled as he kicked off into the wild blue sky.

Flying always came naturally, and today he felt every sense sharpened. This was the only thing that saved him when a Bludger nearly took his head off.

"Gotcha!" Fred said, knocking the Bludger towards the pack of Slytherin Chasers. No such luck though, as the Bludger reversed course and chased Harry down like a bloodhound.

"What the bloody..." George's shout was drowned out as Harry hurried to dodge again. Around and around the dance went as Harry tried in vain to shake the iron ball from his tail. So it was with great relief when Wood finally called a time out.

"We're getting flattened out there, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina from scoring?" Wood demanded.

"We were sixty feet up trying to stop Harry from getting his head taken off by his own personal tail," George shot back.

"Wood, how many points are we down?" Harry inquired.

"Forty at the moment, but if we don't get some Bludger support that will only increase," Oliver frowned.

"Leave it to me. You need Bludger support, you've got it. Fred, George I want you to leave it alone. Protect everyone else. Between the two of you I don't want to see their Chasers get into formation once. If you can target Malfoy that might solve our problems, too," Harry said authoritatively. The rest of the team gawked and Wood beamed.

"Blimey, Harry, you know that's crazy, right? Wood, what did you do to him?" Fred demanded.

"He didn't do anything. We need to do what's best for the team. We've the best team in the school and we're not going to let some sissy snakes shove us around. They don't even have arms."

"Metaphorically speaking," Katie added as an obvious afterthought. "You know Wood, I think you're going to have to worry about your Captain's spot next year."

Any further conversation was drowned out by the sharp whistle calling them back to the game. The next five minutes certainly proved to be more trouble for the Slytherins than they had anticipated. Cheering their good luck and counting on his broom's superiority, Marcus Flint was not prepared for his Chaser formation to be violently attacked by a Kamikaze Gryffindor Seeker.

Harry had taken his Bludger tail to heart and was making maximum use of its effect. Bludgers were not as fast or nimble as a broom by necessity and so Harry was able to handily avoid it, while at the same time judging distance and speed to drop the Bludger into multiple Slytherin Chaser formations. Like a Sparrow dogging a Hawk, Harry was all around the Slytherins and combined with Fred and George's additional Bludger not one Slytherin attempt on the Lion's goals were made.

Harry was having the grandest time of any game he'd played yet. Not only was he dodging a clearly sabotaged piece of equipment, he was making it work for his team. He was also having a wonderful time showing off a flaw in the Nimbus 2001's design: cornering. The Nimbus 2000 was designed as a complete Quidditch broom, with useful applications in the Auror market as well. The 2001 was pure racing. Trading speed for maneuverability the 2001's simply couldn't seem to throw an elbow or Beater's bat into the path of their arch-nemesis without Harry able to easily dodge. Every time they would catch up, Harry would change directions so violently, were they to follow it was likely the Slytherin player would have failed to retain a grip on their broom.

Then Harry saw it, a flash of gold sitting in the middle of the pitch. The bird was there to be caught, Harry's mind cleared of everything else as he flattened himself on his broom and sped towards the little golden ball. Unfortunately, Draco had caught sight of it two seconds later and in the world of brooms, two seconds can be easily caught up.

Neck in neck both Seekers raced towards the prize. The Snitch had none of its usual weaving and evasion; it seemed bent on sheer speed. Then it slowed and without even realizing it, Harry knew what was going to happen. The Snitch suddenly stopped and reversed course ducking just underneath the outstretched hand of Malfoy. Harry rolled over on his broom, gripping it now only by his legs and dangling precariously. Hands went out and the Snitch failed to evade by just a second as Gryffindor fingers wrapped around its small shape. A surge of pride welled up in Harry. He'd caught it! He'd caught the Snitch and shown the uppity so-and-so's how Gryffindors hunted. The revelation of joy was quickly replaced by pain. Harry had slowed once the prize was his, forgetting about the homicidal piece of sporting equipment trailing him.

The rouge Bludger had caught Harry squarely in his outstretched arm breaking it into Isis knows how many pieces. The pain was both severe and unexpected and it was lucky that Harry was only twelve feet above the grass of the pitch as he lost control of his legs and plummeted onto a less than soft landing. While it is true that Kneazles always land on their feet, Humans who are Kneazles do not always follow this rule. Staring dazed and confused at the sky only a few things registered. Firstly, Katie Bell had grabbed Harry's broom and brought it safely in for a landing. That was good; Harry would hate to have to get a new one. Second, they had won the game. Two hundred twenty to sixty, in near record time. Thirdly, Harry was pleased to note that Malfoy was being verbally flogged by Marcus Flint for his failure to capture the Snitch.

Harry stood with grueling effort. It felt like every nerve in his body was on fire, but he had no choice. There were too many people around for him to show weakness. A Kneazle in pain would attract all sorts of predators. He needed to get back to the den. "Harry, are you alright?" Ginny's worried voice cut through the fog of pain and confusion that was enveloping him at an ever increasing rate.

"My sodding head, and arm. Freaking meow..." was Harry's only reply as he increased his valiant efforts to make it towards the changing rooms.

"My boy! What a spectacular save. I almost couldn't have done it better," Lockhart's 'public' voice cut through the crowd.

"Not him, please not now," Harry moaned.

"Oh, never fear he doesn't realise what he's saying!" Lockhart joked to the crowd. "Now my boy, I think that nasty broken arm there deserves some special treatment!"

"Leave him alone. Madam Pomfrey will fix him up just fine!" Ginny roared.

'Good girl' Harry thought. He was never prouder of Ginny than at that moment.

"My dear, I assure you his arm is perfectly safe in my hands," Lockhart responded to the feisty first year, roughly pushing her aside. Harry twisted sharply and tried to reach for his wand, except he didn't have his wand on him and the sharp motion sent new spasms of pain throughout. Harry fell to his knees and suddenly his arm felt better, or at least less like an arm.

"Well, yes, that can sometimes happen," Lockhart clicked. Looking down, Harry saw what looked like a long flesh-coloured glove sticking out of his robes, his efforts to move them were for naught.

"You deboned it. You unbelievable bastard!" Ginny shrieked and with an incantation Harry didn't quite catch (he was far too busy smiling at the invective Ginny had used) a bolt of red light shot out of Ginny's broken wand and slammed into Lockhart's nose. Small green creatures began to crawl out of it and the man's feminine shrieks were only ended when a very stern Professor McGonagall arrived and whispered 'Finite Incantatem'.

"Miss Weasley, please take Mr. Potter to the Hospital wing and then report to my office. You have some explaining to do," McGonagall glared.

oOo

Harry prepared himself for a long unpleasant night of re-growing bones and trying to get the taste of Skele-Gro out of his mouth. Wet mink musk couldn't have tasted worse. Fortunately there were distractions as Madam Pomfrey had allowed him some visitors, so Hermione, Ron and the Gryffindor Quidditch team were huddled in celebration. Wood had expressed his pride at Harry's courage and inventiveness. Fred and George had promised brutal retaliation on whomever was found to have tampered with the Bludger, and all three Chasers had kissed him in one fashion or another in gratitude for both winning the match and his aerial acrobatics that had allowed all three girls to fly unmolested by Slytherin's tendencies for nastier tactics. Katie Bell had even exclaimed loudly that she was sure Harry had saved her life at one point, to which Harry had tried to wave it off and was instead rewarded with another, shy, peck on the cheek. This led a hearty chuckling from both Fred and George who began singing a rather bawdy song of their own invention, titled: _Potter the Pimp_.

It was nice and all, but Harry's initial jubilation was tempered with worry for his Human. He hoped that McGonagall had understood that she was only trying to protect him. The soft squeak of hinges caused Harry to sit up as he was able and focus his gaze on the doorway. In slowly walked a forlorn looking ginger-headed girl and Harry's heart leapt even as it broke for her. Two very different emotions warred with each other. The first was elation that she was alright; receiving a very stern thrashing from the worry that she might be hiding a deep unforeseen punishment. "Sparkplug, how did you make out?"

"Oh, not too badly, Paws. I didn't get expelled, that's something," she smiled weakly.

"What happened?"

"Lockhart was willing to just write the whole thing off as accidental magic as long as I didn't talk about it with the press... ever. I'm just surprised this broken old wand worked like it was supposed to."

"No problem there, we don't know any reporters now do we?" Harry smiled weakly. "What did McGonagall do?"

"Only fifty points and a week in detention," Ginny wailed. "I lost us all the points you won from our Quidditch match, everyone's going to hate me and I bet you're never," Harry swiftly cut her off.

"I've never been more proud. You defended me when I couldn't protect myself. That's what friends are for, right? I lost a hundred points last year in one go. This will be peanuts compared to that. Besides, you hexed Lockhart. That ought to make at least half the school cheer you tomorrow."

"There's more."

"Oh?" Harry's eyebrows raised into his hairline.

"She's... she's... going to write to Mum, and Mum wrote me the other day and 'suggested' I come home for Holidays. I still don't know how things are going to work out at Christmas. What if she doesn't let me come back? I'm sure to get another Howler too!" Ginny wailed again.

Harry closed his eyes and thought deeply for a moment, and then spoke. "Here is what we'll do. Leave your trunk here, no I'm serious," he said when she gave him a sceptical look, "leave your trunk here and only take a few things home for the Holidays. Then, if your mum doesn't let you come back I'll be there on my trusty Nimbus and we'll smuggle you back! As for the Howler, let me worry about that. I don't think the same approach will work twice. Good plan, no?"

Ginny dried her red eyes and giggled a little. "Sounds positively devious. Are you sure you weren't meant to be in Slytherin, Mr. Potter?"

"Absolutely, I hate snakes," Harry replied deadpan and then the two of them broke out into fresh giggles that helped to reduce the severity of the situation.

"I think I must be off then, before anyone kicks me out." Ginny smiled a sad smile and walked slowly back out the way she came. She was walking more stooped than normal and had a sad gait to her movements. Harry had noticed she was becoming paler by the week it seemed and she was eating less at every meal. He needed to find out what was wrong, but his human was both feisty and crafty and wouldn't give in easily. The pain began to set in and as it did so Harry leaned back into the bedding, hoping that, despite the feeling of fire in his arm, he could get a restful night's sleep.

His hopes were dashed when he felt a large object drop onto his chest. His eyes wide open and quickly adjusting to the dark, he spotted the same very strange little creature that had warned him in Arabella's spare bedroom several months prior against coming back to Hogwarts. "Mr. Harry Potter, sir, you have come despite Dobby's warnings. Dobby thought that if the barrier closed you would not come, but Harry Potter is a greater wizard than Dobby imagined! Dobby had to iron his fingers afterwards, but Dobby did not care sir..." The elf continued rambling and Harry listened carefully.

"Dobby, did you set the Bludger on me today?"

"Yes, Harry Potter, a few broken bones and sent home grievously injured is forever better than death, sir! If Harry Potter only knew what was approaching."

"I don't suppose you can tell me either?"

"Oh, no, Harry Potter, it is forbidden for a house-elf to work against the wishes of his master. If only you knew sir, the danger you is in. You have meant so much to us house-elves."

"So you came to warn me about a danger that you can't tell me about and that I should go home but you can't tell me why. Am I correct so far?" Harry scowled.

"Indeed you is, sir!" Dobby squeaked.

"You shouldn't have wasted your breath. As long as my Human is here the only way I'm leaving is paws up. Dobby, I told you before, there is always danger here."

"But now there is so much more, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once again."

"There really is a Chamber of Secrets?" Harry gushed. Before Harry could stop him the elf picked up a water jug and smashed it over his head.

"Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby."

"Please, Dobby, you have to tell me. When was the Chamber open before?"

"Please ask no more of poor Dobby, sir. Dobby can't answer you with this."

"One more question, Dobby," Harry looked fiercely at the little creature standing before him.

"Yes, Harry Potter?"

"You said you closed the barrier, correct?"

"Yes, sir!" the elf squeaked. WHAM! Harry sailed with his left hand, impacting squarely on the smaller creature's mouth.

"That was for nearly getting Ginny killed. Please leave now. I have reservations about killing you, but they won't last."

"Dobby is used to death threats at home, sir. He gets them five or six times a day," Dobby smiled weakly.

Harry's predatory grin caused the elf to squeak with minor fright. "Who said anything about a threat? I'm making you a promise. If you hurt Ginny Weasley again, I will find you and kill you. Your master may need you, but I assure you, elf, I do not."

Harry could tell his words went straight to the heart of the matter and Dobby wailed and blew his nose on the disgusting pillowcase he wore. Harry thought the little elf must be rather lucky, or at least hate clothing as much as he did. "Why do you wear that thing?" Harry inquired. "I would think if you didn't want clothes you wouldn't bother with it. I wouldn't." At Harry's pronouncement the little elf let out another wail.

"Harry Potter, doesn't understand. This is a sign of Dobby's servitude. The elf is bound to wear this until the master presents him with clothes so signify his freedom."

"So all you need is for you master to give you clothes? Does it have to be a full suit or something?"

"Oh no, the simplest piece of clothing would do. Dobby does all the cooking, cleaning and taking care of his Master, but Master is careful that not even a sock should pass to Dobby lest Dobby become free. Harry Potter is a great wizard for asking. Oh no! Dobby must go now, sir," with a low bow and a pop the elf was gone and Harry was left alone in the dark, but only for a second. He heard the padding of footsteps and the slow creak of the Hospital door open. In came Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall carrying what looked to be a small statue.

"Go get Poppy," Dumbledore commanded and McGonagall rushed quickly off to find the Witch. Harry peered around the loose hanging curtains on his bed and had a crystal clear view of a Petrified Colin Creevy.

oOo

Finishing out the weekend in Hospital brought Monday morning with no relief in sight. While Harry was now free of his hospital bed, the rumours and speculation of the castle seemed more oppressive than any starched white sheets.

It had gotten out that Colin had been Petrified while trying to visit Harry and there seemed to be no shortage of speculation on the source of the obvious threat. A few still thought Harry might have had something to do with it, but all except the most stalwart critics were forced to admit Harry was under adult supervision and therefore couldn't have cursed the first-year student. Harry and his friends all had their own ideas on the mysterious goings-on in the castle.

"So what's his name again?"

"Dobby. At least that's what he said," Harry replied.

"So Dobby closed the barrier?" Ginny was indignant.

"He also was the one who set that Bludger on me, too," Harry growled. His displeasure with the bug-eyed creature was evident.

"Mate, I just had an idea," Ron exclaimed.

"Will wonders never cease?" Ginny snorted.

"Shut it, you!"

"Make me, Ronald!"

"Children, please! Ron, what was your idea?" Hermione finally cut in.

Throwing one last scathing look at Ginny, Ron continued, "What if the little bugger was the one who charmed Harry's broomstick and robes?"

"Ron, the broomstick makes sense. I really think the robes were a prank gone wrong," Neville supplied from the opposite side of the table. Harry thought about this. The round-faced boy wasn't one to say much, but when he did he meant it.

"Look, it doesn't matter. I think we've figured out at least who's trying to kill me. Now all we need to do is figure out what is Petrifying people," Harry said judiciously.

"Pity Dobby didn't tell you what kind of monster is in the Chamber. I want to know how come nobody's noticed it sneaking around the school," Ron finished.

"Likely invisible or very small," Neville put in again.

"Really, there are a thousand different ways something could get around the castle. I just wish we knew what kind of animal could do this," Hermione fretted.

"Who says it's an animal? It could be a dark wizard," Harry responded sharply.

"Harry, Albus Dumbledore is here. He was the only wizard You-Know-Who was afraid of, and if he is afraid of Dumbledore and Dumbledore doesn't know what is going on, then I hardly think it likely that a dark wizard is the one causing all of this," Hermione reasoned.

Any further speculation was cut off by the arrival of the morning's post. A rather large, red letter that was smoking ominously landed in front of Ginny… again. She picked it up trembling and for a second wavered on whether to open it. Ginny had not had cause to fear her mother in a very long time, but right now she felt an uncontrollable panic rise within her chest. She deliberated a second too long. Harry's fast hands grabbed the Howler from her trembling form and slammed it hard on the table in front of him.

He poured half a goblet of pumpkin juice over the combustible stationary, causing a small sizzle, and produced four pillows from beneath the table placing them all covering the red envelope. Jumping on top and pulling a mildly amused Neville along with him they stayed face down stomachs covering the likely area of the blast. Feeling the heat radiating dangerously, Harry nudged Neville who turned his head away as the boy-Kneazle yelled, "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" All surrounding students flung themselves to the floor not a second before a large explosion rocked the Great Hall, splintering a large section of the table, overturning multiple breakfasts, and enveloping the Gryffindor table in a cloud of smoke that smelled strongly of fried duck.

The pillows ignited in large golden flames, but were quickly doused with a clever spell from Hermione. With that, any Gryffindor that could, sat up and continued eating breakfast as though nothing had happened. Any whose breakfast was now inedible, merely sat up and looked bemusedly around as though that is what they had planned all along. When several of the teachers came by to locate more exactly the source of the noise that disturbed them from breakfast, all anyone said was, 'the table had it coming'. Thus, Harry was saved another embarrassing detention.

With breakfast ending, they all rose and began to head out once more to the Greenhouses and Herbology. Sensing an impending need for secrecy Harry, Ron and Hermione all hung back a little letting the crowded hall clear in front of them.

"I still say it's Malfoy. Daddy Malfoy opened the Chamber when he was here and now he's taught little Malfoy how," Ron muttered.

"There is only one way to find out," Harry replied. "Speaking of which, how is it coming?"

"We started Sunday. Sorry that it was without you, but we wanted it to get it done as soon as possible," Hermione said quietly.

"When do we need the complicated bits?" Harry asked.

"Not for another few weeks, I think."

"I'd feel better the sooner we have it. I'll go soon."

"Harry! We're working with Mandrakes again," Harry heard Neville shout from well in front of him.

"Damn! Why do we always have to be working with something that will kill us," Ron exclaimed.

"What do you mean Ronnikens?" The sudden appearance of the Weasley Twins startled the group.

"Well… you know… it's just that the cries of the things are fatal, supposedly anyway and I'm not a big fan of working with lethal objects!" Ron finished hastily. He was obviously uncomfortable at disclosing sensitive information to two of the school's biggest troublemakers.

"Never knew you were afraid of anything except spiders," George grinned evilly.

"Certainly something to remember," smirked Fred, and the two of them sauntered off, leaving a very disturbed Ron and a feeling of impending disaster in their wake.

"I really don't like your brothers this year, Ron," Harry said.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, but was cut off by Ron.

"Me either, let's go. Standing around here gives me the shakes," and with that the three friends moved quickly so as not to be late for the best class of the day.


	18. Dark Deeds

Ch18 Dark Deeds

The second week of December brought not only a depressingly cold northern wind, but the halfway point of the Polyjuice potion. There was no joy in this remarkable achievement for Harry, though. His mind was elsewhere and had been for some time. His Human, Ginny, had been on a continual downward slide into depression since shortly after they had arrived at school and nothing he had done had made a lasting impact on improving her mood. Sure, she cheered up when they visited the Kneazles, especially the kittens, or when the unicorns paid their monthly visit, but nothing lasted. As soon as they were heading back to the castle her oppressively dark mood returned with a vengeance.

What was worse, Harry couldn't even find what was bothering her. Her marks were abysmal and she had confessed that she wasn't sleeping. The more he pressed, the more she fought him. Harry never thought that her independent streak would become a detriment to Ginny's health. Harry was determined to find out what was bothering her and only the constant badgering of Hermione and Ron kept him on track for their eventual goal of prying the information from Malfoy about the Chamber of Secrets. The only thing he could pin any of her mood on was the fact that Mum Weasley had insisted she come home for Christmas, 'to spend time with family'. Never mind the vast majority of Weasleys would be prowling about the deserted castle for two weeks.

"Really Ron, can't we just... I dunno, beat it out of him?" Harry whined. "It would be faster and we wouldn't have to muck around with all this complicated brewing."

"Harry, I'm with you. I really am, but Hermione would have a fit. She's already put so much time into this, I'd hate to waste it," Ron replied shortly. They'd been having the same conversation for the past week and Harry's only explanation as to his consternation was that he was worried about Ginny. Ron had tried to tell his friend that she was just having a hard time with classes and the first time separation from home was getting to her, but Harry was having none of it.

That night saw all three potion conspirators clustered in a corner of the Gryffindor common room. Ginny had gone to bed just after dinner claiming a stomach ache, leaving a very worried Harry to discuss plans to pilfer the remaining potion's ingredients. "What we need is a diversion," Hermione said judiciously. "I think I better do the stealing, if Harry gets in anymore trouble he'll be expelled and Ron, you can't lie to save your life."

"Oi! Not true, I've lied plenty of times."

"How many of those did you get away with it, though?" Harry replied smugly.

"Umm... a few..." Ron replied uncertainly.

"Twice, and you know it, and that is only because Dad Weasley didn't push," Harry chided. Turning his attention back to Hermione he was confronted with another very quizzical look. He felt rather like a toad being prepared for minute dissection. "I'll do it," Harry said suddenly.

"What?" both his friends replied, confused.

"I'll get what we need. Bicorn horn and Boomslang Skin, right?" Hermione nodded dumbly. "Well then, that settles it. Lessons are done for the night and I'm off to raid the Wizard..." Whistling brightly Harry clambered out the portrait hole. When Hermione and Ron followed him a few seconds later, he was nowhere in sight.

"Ron, last year at Christmas, you told me Harry was an odd bloke. Do you remember?" Hermione queried.

"Of course. Then you yelled at me for being judgmental or something," Ron replied.

"I'm sorry for that. He really is an odd bloke."

The odd bloke in question had long since made a feline beeline for the dungeons. Harry's acute senses allowed him to avoid several frisky fifth-year Ravenclaws and the Weasley twins who appeared to be holding a large bag and wearing sets of brightly coloured earmuffs. Harry really didn't want to be the in the fur of the intended prank target. The twins had become both more devious and far more dangerous in their pranks. Harry privately wondered if they weren't switched at the beginning of the year with a pair of Slytherins.

The one good thing about all below ground hallways in Hogwarts was their abundance of shadows. Harry's natural colouring gave him the edge here and he knew it. Moving quickly along, he almost ran straight into the arguing pair of McGonagall and Snape.

"No favouritism will be tolerated, Severus!"

"That's rich coming from you. Going to give up protecting your precious Potter?" he sneered.

Harry listened for a moment and decided nothing of interest was going to be gleaned. Snape hated him and McGonagall was family, it was only natural they should feud, he thought. The Potions classroom was ahead and Harry moved with purpose. However, standing in front of the door was a large brightly coloured box. The kaleidoscope of colours instantly drew his attention and the ribbon begged to be untied. The box was about two feet high and quite square. Prowling around its outside, the previous mission temporarily forgotten, Harry finally located a piece of the ribbon that hung down enough for him to untie without the use of longer limbs or thumbs. Tugging on it for a minute the piece of silk finally came undone and floated gently to the floor. Standing awkwardly on his hind legs, Harry tried to see what was in the mysterious package. He later wished he hadn't.

The top of the box exploded open, and letting loose a shrill cry. Half a second later all Harry knew was blackness, the drumming of approaching feet lost to the cold grip of unconsciousness.

After what felt like an eternity crossed with mere seconds, Harry began the slow swim through the murky blackness to the eventual brightness of the Hospital wing.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter. How are you feeling today?" a falsely cheery Professor McGonagall asked.

"Merow..." was Harry's only response. Damn! He'd forgotten to change back. Apparently his inner monologue was apparent to his Head of House as she smiled, genuinely this time.

"I'm glad. We were beginning to worry. You're extremely lucky to survive a Mandrake cry at that proximity. Now you wouldn't happen to have had anything to do with its placement would you?" Her eyes bored into him. Harry did the only thing he could think of when confronted with the powerful force of Professor McGonagall's stare. He took a bath. Head... ears... paws... tail... one by one his powerful and rough tongue scrubbed his black fur to a glossy shine. He was shaken out of his ritual of evasion by the loud voice of Professor McGonagall. "Poppy, would you please come here."

Harry's eyes went wide, and then narrowed in silent accusation. He wasn't allowed to tell anyone, but if his guess was correct, and Kneazle's guesses usually were, then he was about to give his secret to yet another relatively unknown factor. Where was the justice? Where was the secrecy the bespectacled Kneazle-molester had droned on about? Soon the whole castle would know!

"Mr. Potter, I understand your reluctance, believe me, I do. However, I had told you that with your penchant for getting into trouble Madam Pomfrey may need to be informed. I encouraged you to do it yourself, but you decided against my suggestions. With your most recent activities I am pushing the issue. Madam Pomfrey isn't a veterinarian. She has done admirably with you in the past; however, I must say that may not be enough in the future. My job, Mr. Potter, is to ensure the safety and wellbeing of ALL my students. I take particular care with family." The final statement hung with an air of ominous formality. Harry did feel more comfortable with his cousin there, he was still nervous about the reaction of his next confidant.

"Yes, Minerva?" The voice of Poppy Pomfrey came around the curtain just before her body did.

"Poppy, Dumbledore and I have asked much of you over the years," McGonagall began, "And I would like to thank you for everything you've done thus far, but most especially with this most recent case."

"No more than what I've always set out to do, Minerva. I've sworn to heal. While magical creatures are more Hagrid's speciality than mine, I think he's on the mend now."

"Yes, he is. In fact, this particular Kneazle is rather unique, wouldn't you agree?" McGonagall asked vaguely.

"I would, if for no other reason than you've brought him here. Kneazles, pardon my saying so, are rather common animals. If you didn't take him to Hagrid, I would have thought you might have put him down, were he too badly injured to go back to the forest."

"Ah, you see there is a bit more to it than that, but before we discuss it I must have your solemn word that nothing we discuss here will ever be divulged."

"Minerva, the very nerve! I am bound by my healer's oath and that includes all my patients. I found no discriminating clause that says one must be on two legs to qualify."

"Please, Poppy, it is the only way he'll feel comfortable enough to show you," McGonagall pleaded.

"Show me what? Oh, very well, though this is all a bit redundant. I swear on my profession as a Healer and the oath of Hippocrates that I will not divulge my patients' secrets now or ever, barring the need to save his life."

"Thank you, Poppy. Satisfied, Harry?" McGonagall fixed the black Kneazle with a piercing glare, as though daring him to disagree. "I think you should show her now."

Despite the raging headache, Harry felt the electric current run up his spine and before he knew it, he was sitting cross legged on the bed, locking eyes with a speechless Madam Pomfrey.

"Well... that certainly explains a few things," Poppy said softly.

oOo

"Wait, what happened?"

"Ron, I told you. I opened a box I think was meant for Snape," Harry sighed. They'd gone over this three times already and he was trying to eat his supper. Hermione was trying to puzzle out the reasoning behind it all, Ron was interrogating in case there was some minute detail Harry had left out, and Ginny (whom Harry had insisted they finally include in it all) was nervously worrying about him.

"And a teenage mandrake just happened to be inside? Blimey mate, are you blind? Someone is definitely trying to do away with you," Ron fumed.

"How? Those little buggers aren't lethal; I don't even have permanent hearing damage. A few more days maybe, I really think it was just a bad joke. Someone would have to know exactly where I was and where I was going. I just don't see how it's possible, Ron."

"Could have been that Dobby again. Really, if he doesn't stop trying to save you, he's going to kill you." A squeak from Ginny's portion of the table gave the signal for Harry to steer the conversation back to safer waters.

"It was a joke, Ron. I'm sure of it," Harry growled.

"A joke on who?" Ginny piped up. The strain of worry on her face was plain.

"Sparkplug, I don't think it takes a wand maker to figure this one out. A dangerous package was placed in front of a very unpopular professor's door late at night. Had I not arrived first and opened the present, our beloved Potion Professor would be in my shoes and I would be running about barefoot," Harry explained gently, trying to ease her worried mind.

"I suppose that makes sense. Why would you be barefoot though?" Ginny finally responded, the dark cloud lifting a little.

"Because Snape would have my shoes and once he was done with them I do think they'd be a bit stretched out."

"Harry, sometime we really need to discuss your literal interpretation of life," Hermione rebuked. "Now, tomorrow we've a double class of Potions again. So, unless Harry fancies another midnight stroll, I think we'd best stick to daytime larceny," she continued. "We need a distraction, and I'll nick the supplies."

"Neville and I will take care of the distraction," Harry responded. "Ron, if Snape notices anything I'll need you to stall him."

"Wait a second, mate. How are you going to convince Neville to help? I wasn't in favour of letting Ginny in on this little project and Neville is a weak link. Why don't you and I work together on it?"

"Because Snape will notice if something changes. Any change will be a dead giveaway. Don't worry; he won't know what hit him. As for how I'll get Neville to help, all we need is for him to be blind for a minute or two. He'll do that for us. We just will have to tell him later that is my only condition," Harry concluded.

"Fine, if that is the only way," Ron sulked.

The nefarious plotting finished, all four headed to bed and an uneasy sleep, knowing that if any of them were caught they most likely would not live to face another detention. The next day rose the same as its predecessor, however, and after a final and hushed 'good luck' from Ginny over breakfast the trio of conspirators moved on to the dungeons and the hell that awaited them there. One more thing needed to be accomplished before the plan was ready though.

"Neville, can you talk a moment?" Harry inquired.

"Harry," Neville began cautiously, "you've got that look in your eye again."

"What look?" Harry responded in what he hoped was an innocent manner.

"The look a cat gets when he's about to pounce a mouse."

"That could be the situation here..." Harry let the words dangle, Neville was naturally a curious boy and Harry waited for him to take the bait.

"What can I do?"

"Be blind."

"Excuse me?" Neville looked thoroughly confused.

"Be blind. We're about to go into Potions and something startling might happen, and if it does I need you not to see it."

"Anything I can help with?" Neville grinned at Harry's startled look.

"What? I don't understand."

"We're going into Snape's class, no secret there. If there is something that needs done, I'd like to help."

"Well, let's see..." The possibilities with an accomplice began to unfold in Harry's mind and with it a slow predatory grin crossed his face.

An hour into class and Hermione gave the signal. Harry was ready, his Swelling Solution was already primed, all it needed was a special ingredient. Harry had discovered in one of his many unfortunate brewing attempts the previous year that despite their deliciousness, Kneazle treats were not a worthwhile brewing ingredient, which was why he was willing to sacrifice a whole bag that Arabella had bought him at the end of the summer. Sacrificing Kneazle treats to something other than his stomach had to be a kind of heresy. He would ask Isis for her eternal forgiveness later. Clandestinely dropping the entire bag into his cauldron, Neville immediately dropped a Remembrall his Gran had sent him last year. The shattering of glass drew some attention, but gave Harry an excuse to not be at eye level with the cauldron as he helped his brewing partner clean up the shattered mess. Harry had never been gladder he was on the ground in his life.

A few seconds later Harry's cauldron exploded in a thick black fog, hurtling thick chunks of black molten goo, up and out. The cries of alarm permeated the impenetrable fog; so Harry missed the departure and return of Hermione, the front of her robes bulging. Snape moved quickly through the fog to each station, his memory of the classroom allowing him to navigate without sight, checking each of his students for injuries. Finding none, it appeared that whatever the black material was, had no lasting impact but was at first touch remarkably hard to remove from any table.

Snape opened the door and conjured a magical wind to help dispell the acrid smoke from his domain. After a few minutes the dour professor surveyed the damage. Surprisingly enough the only visible harm came was a black and twisted cauldron belonging to his least favourite student. "Potter," His voice was deathly calm. "Would you care to explain?"

"I don't know, Professor. I think perhaps potion making may not quite be for me."

"That much has always been obvious. However, if I find that this was intentional, I will ensure that expulsion is the least of your worries," the older man's eyes were dangerous slits now.

"If you do Professor, I expect that you will. May I clean up now?" The boy's cheek did nothing to placate his teacher.

How Snape hated the Potters, every sodding one! It would only be natural that the boy would inherit his father's cheek along with his looks. A pity his mother didn't give him anything else. Lily... Snape squashed the line of thinking ruthlessly. With a quick nod he went to check the results of the other students' potions.

Harry quickly cleaned what was left of his cauldron and disposed of it. He'd have to send for another he supposed. Leaving the class as quickly as decorum would allow, he was followed by all three of his friends. Neville spoke first. "Bloody hell! That was brilliant. I don't think I've ever seen the old codger so furious. Why though, Harry?"

"Something to do, I suppose," Harry replied evasively. "Look, I'm sorry Neville, but I can't say anything more right now. I'll tell you... say after Christmas." The pudgy boy nodded.

"I'll hold you to that, Harry. Do you need another cauldron?"

"Well, yes, I melted mine."

"I've got another, well dozen, I suppose, but you can have one if you need it."

"A dozen? Why so many mate?" It was Ron's first contribution to the conversation.

"I'm always melting them, aren't I? And Harry asked me last year why I didn't just keep a few lying about. So I decided it was a good idea," Neville shrugged, "I'll see you all later." With that parting shot the round-faced boy walked off.

Seemingly alone Harry whispered "Did you get it?"

"Of course. Harry, how many did you add?"

"The box, why?"

"I told you only a few!" Hermione whispered heatedly. "A few, too many could cause disastrous results."

"I thought that might work better for us," Harry replied easily.

Ron groaned. "Leave it to Harry to decide 'disastrous results' might work better for us. Have you taken a look at everyone who's staying over Christmas hol's?"

Both Harry and Hermione shook their heads. "The little fink Malfoy is staying over, along with his two gorillas. Perfect timing don't you think?"

Harry smirked, "I'd say sexing fantastic." Harry missed the very odd looks Hermione and Ron shared at his unusual comment.

"Harry, you know Snape thinks it was you, don't you?" Ron said uneasily.

"Of course, it was me. I wasn't going to disguise my melted cauldron, now was I?"

"Why didn't you just use the fireworks like we talked about?" Ron asked irritated. Sometimes Harry's thick head really got on his nerves.

"And where were we going to get some? We can't owl order them in, and that leaves really only one reliable source. Do you fancy asking your brothers for some?"

Ron blanched. "No, I suppose not."

"Then don't worry about it. We've what we need and I'm not in detention this week. Spectacular, all things considered." Smiling to himself, Harry waltzed on to lunch.

oOo

Fighting their way through a crowd of people gathered in a knot in the Great Hall, Harry and Ginny stood staring at the cause of it all. A piece of parchment had been pinned up announcing the starting of a duelling club that night. "Could come in bloody useful," Dean Thomas said loudly.

"You reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" Seamus Finnegan asked.

"You going, Sparkplug?"

"Sure, just like Dean said, could be useful."

That night Harry's Pride followed him into the Great Hall with anticipation.

"Who do you think will be teaching?" Ron asked.

"I don't know, could be Professor Flitwick. I heard he was a dueling champion in his day," Hermione replied.

"So long as it isn't… Bloody hell," Ron groaned as one Gilderoy Lockhart appeared on the stage, loudly announcing his competency as the dueling instructor and generously allowing Professor Snape to help him. Harry focused intently on the mock duel. His mind still wasn't completely made up on the blond professor; perhaps Dumbledore was holding back his true teaching potential. If that was the case, Harry would see it here.

The wand gracefully soared out of Lockhart's hand as the man was thrown backwards and helped up by several students.

"Well, that's enough demonstration. Experience is the best teacher after all," Lockhart announced

Harry grinned. Now they were getting somewhere. Unfortunately, his attempts to pair up with one of his Pridemates was foiled by the crotchety Potions Professor, so Harry found himself paired with a Slytherin girl who reminded him of either a troll, or a Rottweiler that had its face shut in a car door.

A few minutes later, the whole room was in chaos. More than one fistfight had broken out, and numerous jinxes had to be reversed. Harry stared piercingly at Lockhart, who for his part merely shouted 'Stop, stop!' Harry hated to admit it, but he was impressed with Snape's control of the situation

"Well, I think it might be better to start out teaching you how to block unfriendly jinxes first!" Lockhart cried. "Now, who should we choose? Ah, Longbottom and Finnegan, I think."

"Not a good idea, Professor," Snape cut in. "Longbottom can devastate with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finnegan to the Hospital in a matchbox. How about Potter and Mr. Malfoy?" The calculating expression on Snape's face did nothing to relax the imaginary fur bristling on Harry's neck.

"Excellent! Yes, now Harry, here is how you block an unfriendly spell," Harry wasn't paying attention. He'd learned this as a kitten before he knew anything about fancy magic or schools. The best way to block something is not be there to hit. Bouncing a little on his feet, Harry studied his opponent. Would the spell aim high or low? Would there be a quick follow up? Harry doubted it. Malfoy seemed like the type to study his results. He crouched low, wand held loosely in his right hand. Harry shifted his weight once more. He gave a curt bow, possibly one of the most ridiculous Human customs, and waited.

"Go!" Lockhart's shout scarcely registered before Harry shot forward and rolled low. His adrenaline was pumping quickly and he failed to hear the loud cry of 'Serpensortia!' as his own 'Tarantallegra' shot out and touched his opponent. Rolling once more Harry came face to face with a large snake.

"SONOVA BITCH! Mother Sexing Dog Kennel!" Harry yelled.

"Something wrong, mate?" The snake asked mildly perturbed.

"You... you can understand me?" Harry was thoroughly confused. He hated snakes, and they hated him. He'd run across them from time to time in Arabella's back yard and had disposed of them with ruthless efficiency. Ever since his littermate Ignotus had been killed by an Adder, Harry had no use for them. So the… cordiality of this one was surprising to say the least.

"Of course. You're a speaker, we can all understand you. You've a rare gift, not many of us have ever had a conversation with one of your kind."

"I see, where did you come from?"

"Where all conjured things come from."

"Ah," Harry found the snakes evasiveness a little disconcerting.

"Would you mind going away then? No offense, but you're scaring everyone a little I think," Harry noted the wide eyes from everyone in the Hall.

"I wish I could, but like all things conjured I require a banishment to return."

Harry puzzled on this a moment and then stood up and looked directly at Professor Lockhart. "He says he'd like to go back. Could you Banish him?" Harry asked.

"Excuse me?" Both Professors in attendance were dumbstruck.

"He'd like to go back. That is, if Malfoy is done playing about," Harry grinned.

With a swish and flick of the wand Professor Snape Banished the offending reptile and stood glaring down at the child of his schoolyard enemy.

"Thank you, Professor. Try not to look so put out, I'll get you another snake if you want one," and smiling, Harry jumped off the stage and walked through a crowd of people, who were now fighting one another to get out his way, over to Ginny and whispered "Sparkplug, let's get out of here. I think I've had enough duelling for today."

Jerking his head at the door, Harry let Ron, Hermione and Neville know what he was up to and they followed suit, watching him intently the whole while as though waiting for a sign from Merlin himself.

"Harry, why didn't you tell us you were a Parselmouth?" Ron demanded once they were out of sight from the Great Hall.

"A Parsel-what?"

"A Parselmouth, you know, you can talk to snakes."

"Oh, well, I've never done it before."

"You said that about flying, too," Ron looked piercingly at Harry. "Is there something you aren't telling us, mate?"

"NO! It was true then and true now. I've never talked to a snake before and I never flew before either. I've spent most of my life hating the crawling buggers and it was as big a shock as anything when he started talking to me! Why is it such a big deal anyway?"

"Harry," Neville said in a whisper just loud enough for the others to hear, "Being a Parselmouth is supposed to be the sign of a dark wizard. They say You-Know-Who could and old Salazar was called 'Snake Tongue'."

"Well, I can talk to Kneazles and unicorns too. Does that make me the long lost relative of Godric Gryffindor or Uncas the Unicorn herder?"

"Firstly, Harry, Gryffindor was lions, and secondly, it doesn't matter if you're related or not. Practically the whole school heard you up there, and they're all going to think that you're the next Heir of Slytherin," Ron was gesturing wildly as if to prove an ever increasing point. Looking at the worried faces of his friends, Harry knew that Ron was speaking intelligently about the situation.

"Well then… Sex 'em. Sex 'em 'till their fur falls out. I'm not the Heir of Slytherin. The Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor because that is who I am. If being multi-lingual is a crime then lock me up, gents. Come on, let's get out of here." Harry strode away resolutely.

Harry didn't say much that night, and neither did anyone else. It seemed there was an invisible barrier that surrounded any part of the room Harry chose to sit in. Two hours later the oppressive stares were beginning to finally wear on him; no Kneazle likes being eyeballed. With a soft goodbye to his study partners he headed to an early bed.

A cold draft jerked him from an uneasy sleep. Moving what was left of his body in the bed out to the cold floor Harry snuck down the stairs and was startled to find Ginny sitting in front of a dying fire, her knees tucked tightly against her chest. Her eyes were red from previously shed tears.

Moving quickly, he sat down beside her and pressed his head to her arm in a fashion he'd done hundreds of times on four legs. "What's wrong, Sparkplug?"

"Harry, it's not fair!" This unusual statement elicited Harry's Kneazle instincts and he quickly ferreted out the reason for her sorrow.

"It just isn't fair! You're such a good friend, and I saw how they were looking at you. I don't want them to hurt you."

Harry chuckled softly. "I don't think that is an issue, Ginny," she looked up sharply at him. "What I meant was, I can take care of myself. I think it will all blow over tomorrow. Don't you?"

The look she shot him was one of clear disbelief, but she said nothing. After another hour in silence they departed for their respective beds with the hope that tomorrow would indeed be a better day.

_AN: Thank you to all who have reviewed. I appreciate every one. They give me the drive to continue posting. I will continue a 2 week posting schedule until the end of book 2. Thanks you to all who have commented on my were-harry story. I think I might just go ahead and write it one of these days. In the meantime, book 3 awaits! Keep up the good ideas for anything you'd like to see, keeping in mind this is a Harry/Ginny story._


	19. Blizzards

Ch19 Blizzards

Harry's prediction for a better day certainly started off under inauspicious circumstances. The snow that had started the night before turned into a full-blown blizzard. Herbology had been cancelled that day so Professor Sprout could place scarves and mittens on the Mandrakes, a task she would entrust to no one else. Neville was there anyway, dying to learn more in the one class he succeeded in on a regular basis.

Ron and Hermione were busy fighting about something unimportant and Ginny, who did not have Herbology, was in lessons and so that left Harry alone and to his own devices. A Kneazle left to his own devices is a scary idea indeed, as any good Kneazle caretaker will tell you. Leaving quietly out of the portrait hole, Harry wandered aimlessly about the castle. He noticed the odd looks any student he passed seemed to give him, and the whispers were hardly discreet to his Kneazle-enhanced ears.

Whispers ranging from the likelihood of his being Slytherin's heir to the occasional wager on his next victim were all discussed. Harry solidly ignored them. On a whim, Harry decided to begin looking up another spell to practice. He'd mastered his third one, outside regular second year curriculum, and the hunger for another spell reared its head once more.

The library was fuller than usual, with a tightly packed knot of Hufflepuffs sitting in one corner, discussing something in hushed tones. Harry tried to ignore them, but their voices carried in the quiet of the library, much to the dismay of Madam Pince.

"I always thought there was something funny about him," one Hufflepuff said.

"But Ernie, he defeated You-Know-Who. How could he be a dark wizard?" a female voice carried.

Harry tried to ignore them and look for a spell, but it was really too funny. Harry found himself smiling despite the seriousness of the situation. He was a dark wizard? There was something very different about him, that was for sure but he imagined that no one would ever guess the truth. They would all be too shocked to discover the real reason why he was fascinated by string and shiny things. Why he skived off History of Magic, well, maybe not that, but certainly why he had an almost prodigal talent for Transfiguration and why his favourite food was Liver and Cheese Kneazle treats.

The suspicious voices of the Hufflepuffs were derailing his train of thought. He tried to forcefully concentrate on the book of spells he had found; ah there was a useful one: the Reductor Curse. Yes, he'd learn that one. It looked like it might take him the rest of the year, but it should prove interesting.

Finally a bit of conversation floated in that proved too much for Harry to resist.

"Where's Justin?" one of them asked

"He's staying in his room mostly. Now that we know it's Potter, he can keep clear of him, can't he? I mean can you actually believe he told Potter his name was down for Eton? That's not the sort of thing you go bandying about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"

It was ridiculous. As far as Harry could tell, they were concerned with something about Muggles. He didn't have a clear understanding of what Eton was, but it sounded bad. Harry privately thought he was the last person to have much of anything to say about purity of blood, if his family had thought otherwise they'd have kicked him out of the Pride when he was a kitten, or at the very least when they found out he could change. The conclusions that people seemed to be jumping to not only boggled his mind, but made him question the idea that Humans were really fit to be Kneazle pets.

He would not jump to conclusions, however. Harry strode purposefully so one bookshelf was separating himself and the Hufflepuff table. Easily scaling the large partition he sat only a moment on top until he was sure their conversation had not strayed.

"I don't know how Dumbledore can let him stay here. Filch's cat knew. She was always a bit skittish of him, and then suddenly she was attacked. Creevey was always taking pictures of him. I wonder if that lot he hangs out with knows. The Granger girl is bright enough; she should see him for what he is. You never know, though, they could be in with him. The more I think about it the more I think we need to keep an eye on them, too," a Hufflepuff, Harry now identified as Ernie MacMillan, was interrupted by a voice from slightly above his head.

"Not a private party is it?" The entire table turned to see Harry hanging upside down from the top of a bookshelf. His calves and feet anchoring him firmly to his perch, and arms crossed over his chest. Several of the girls gave squeaks of fright. Ernie went a shade of pink and glared furiously at the interloper.

"Skulking about, Potter? What do you want?" he asked venomously.

"Skulking? This is hardly skulking. I think of it more like… adventuresome use of vertical space. However, to answer your question, nothing really, just wanted to ask who you all were talking about. He seems like a frightful person, the kind I'd want to run out of here if I could. I have an idea," Harry started with enthusiasm, "You know who he is, right? Let's go find him! McGonagall will help us I'm sure." Quickly dismounting the bookcase he landed next to a very pale Hannah Abbott. Clapping two of the Hufflepuffs on the back he turned quickly, "Come on, you lot. We've an Heir of Slytherin to catch."

When none of them moved, Harry locked eyes with Ernie Macmillan, who seemed both slightly confused and very wary. "You're not fooling anyone, Potter. We all heard you."

"Heard me? Heard me doing what?" Harry asked, sounding surprised.

"You can speak to snakes! We know you're a Parselmouth. You're the only one who could be the Heir of Slytherin, and before you get any funny ideas my blood is as pure as anyone's. I can trace…" Harry cut him off rather suddenly.

"And I care because? I hate snakes, I just happened to find one worth talking to," Harry's eyes grew cold and hard. "Now listen to me. I am not, nor have I ever been the Heir of anything. You're quite able to think what you like about me, I don't worry that much about you either, but I've not Petrified nor killed anyone this year. I don't give a damn about blood. However, the one thing I do care about a great deal, is my friends. Like I said, you're more than welcome to think what you like about me, but if I find you've been bullying them, Slytherin's monster won't hold a candle to what I'll do to you." With the final pronouncement, Harry stalked out of the library in a much worse mood than he had arrived. This was improved only marginally by his chance meeting with Hagrid.

"Oh, 'Ello 'Arry!" The giant man boomed.

"Oh, hello, Hagrid," Harry replied. "Hagrid, you shouldn't have!" Harry exclaimed, eyes fixated on the dead rooster in his hand, and just as suddenly the smile was wiped from his face. "That… isn't for me is it?"

"No, 'Arry. Blimey, sommat's been killn' the Roosters."

"It isn't the Kneazles again, is it? I can go talk to them, I swear! Please don't start hunting them Hagrid, the kittens aren't old enough to fend for themselves yet," Harry's impassioned pleas made Hagrid smile a little. It was so rare to find a child that was so concerned with the wellbeing of other species.

"No, 'Arry. I don' think it's Kneazles this time. I've got to see the Headmaster about puttin' a charm round the coop. So, I'll be off then," Hagrid began to walk off, when Harry called out.

"Er, Hagrid?"

"Yeah, 'Arry?"

"Do you need that?" Harry asked, pointing at the limp rooster.

"No, I suppose not. Yeh can have it if yeh like. What do yeh need it for?"

"A present," Harry responded pleasantly and took the dead rooster from Hagrid's massive hand. Looking appreciatively at the chicken he almost missed the flash of red hair that darted down the far hallway. It had to be Ginny. "Thanks Hagrid, I'll visit tomorrow!" With that parting shot, Harry sprinted nimbly down the hall, determined to catch up to his Human. She needed all the cheer she could get these days, and taking a present out to the Pride would do the trick. Following her up the nearby stairs, Ginny's unmistakable scream brought Harry so quickly to her side it was like magic.

Gripping the smaller girl tightly in his arms, Harry searched wildly around for the source of her distress and a way to kill it. He spotted it in the Petrified form of Justin Finch-Fletchley and the black and hardened form of Nearly-Headless Nick. Ginny's scream had drawn attention from other residents of the castle as well. A previously smug Peeves had spotted the situation and instead of one of his usual pranks rushed off screaming 'Attack, Attack! No ghost or human is safe!'

Looking down, Harry could tell the incident had shaken the petite ginger-headed girl to her core. Sliding them both gently to the floor Harry tried to force a deep rumble from his chest to sooth her. He couldn't quite get it right, but the action seemed to calm her down a little anyway. "Come on, Sparkplug, we've got to find someone. McGonagall can help us, but I need you ready to move. Can you do that?" Standing back up on unsteady legs, Ginny merely nodded. Then the whole world seemed to crash down on them.

Students came at them from seemingly every direction, followed closely by both Professor Snape and Cousin McGonagall. "Aha! Caught in the act, with an assistant no less. Needing help from another pureblood to rid the castle of those you don't like, Potter?" The loud and acidic voice of Ernie MacMillan came sharply into focus against all the background noise. Was he accusing Ginny of having something to do with this? Harry's mind tried to process it all quickly, but the only ideas that came easily were to kill something, or to run away.

Harry felt fresh sobs emanating from Ginny, as her chest shook violently. Pushing her behind him, Harry stood as tall as his short frame would allow and willed his hair to stand on end. It would give him at least another inch or two. The blood was still pounding in his ears and everything seemed to move in slow motion. The horrific screeching of MacMillan seemed to drone on for eternity and Ginny was only sobbing harder. NO ONE makes Harry's Human cry. Abandoning her and moving faster than most students thought possible, Harry's wand was out and his fist was cocked. Only running into the soft form of a teacher kept Harry out of Azkaban and Macmillan among the living. "Mr. Potter, I suggest whatever you are thinking, you refrain from acting on it." Shooting a sharp look at her student, Professor McGonagall hoped it was enough to bring him back.

Harry dimly recognised a large human blocking his path. No matter, he could go around. Attempting to bypass the obstruction, Harry's concentration was finally disrupted when he felt a swift knee connect with his solar plexus. The soft voice of Professor McGonagall was barely audible, even to his trained ears, "Cousin, go protect Ginny and get to the Headmaster's office. I'll be following soon." Acting on autopilot, Harry grabbed his charge, picked up his chicken and escorted them both the whole way to the stone gargoyle, keeping himself between Ginny's distressed form and the accompanying Professor Snape's accusatory glares.

Travelling through the Headmaster's normal office, the site of so many fond memories, and headed up a large stone staircase that seemed to move on its own, finally depositing them in front of a large oak door with a large brass Griffin door knocker. Harry vaguely realised that this must be Dumbledore's den.

The loud knock from Professor McGonagall startled both students, as neither had noticed their Head of House had caught up with them. The door opened and revealed the Headmaster in his natural surroundings.

Harry felt the piercing stare of the Headmaster's gaze and shifted himself none to subtly in front of Ginny. To his surprise, she seemed too frightened to even protest this obvious display of protection. "Headmaster, there has been another attack," McGonagall's voice pierced the uneasy silence. A brief description of the events from the Professor's point of view summed up the situation. Harry was uneasily aware of the looming form of Professor Snape, eerily quiet and devoid of his normal hate-filled comments.

Another second of silence passed, until the booming voice and massive frame of Rubeus Hagrid nearly broke in the door.

"Professor, it couldn't ha' been Harry! I only jus' left him a minute afore. There, he's still got the rooster I gave him! He couldn't ha," Hagrid's rant was abruptly interrupted by the Headmaster.

"Hagrid, please calm yourself. I do not, in fact, think that Mr. Potter is guilty of anything," Dumbledore shot an annoyed glance as Snape snorted loudly.

"Oh, well, then. I'll jus' be goin'." A slightly shamefaced Hagrid turned and left.

"While Mr. Potter's innocence is quite easily accepted by you, Headmaster, I have my reservations as to the involvement of his noted accomplice," Snape finally spoke. As usual, Harry noted, when the slick Potions Master spoke it never boded well for anyone Harry was close to. There had to be a solution, but that could wait for later, currently a show of resolve was needed.

"Your reservations? The only reservation you should have is in ten minutes for a swift foot to the a…"

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall interrupted severely, "I strongly suggest you not finish that sentence."

"Only missing three letters," Harry grumbled. The boy locked eyes with his hated adult enemy, both in a contest of wills, when a small hand broke his concentration.

"Paws, let it go. Please?" Ginny begged softly. Harry reluctantly broke eye contact and stared back at her. The tears in her eyes were threatening to fall, but she held them back valiantly.

"It is by my Human's grace and will alone that you will leave here unharmed," Harry declared, his nose high in the air. It was important to let the hook-nosed bastard know that he, Harry Potter, wasn't giving up. He was simply called off. Looking around the room three very different expressions greeted him. Dumbledore's was one of mild amusement, Cousin McGonagall had one of shock and concern and she was shaking her head almost imperceptibly, while Snape's face radiated equal parts confusion and hatred. What had he… oh shite… flaming dog bollocks on a pinecone. He didn't really say…

Looking at Ginny's face, which was curiously a cross between McGonagall's and Snape's minus the hatred, Harry realised he did in fact say that out loud. Well shite. The Niffler was in the fortune now.

"Mr. Potter, I do believe we are getting slightly off topic," Dumbledore's voice rescued him from the immediate peril of an explanation. "I do not think, in fact, that either of you had anything to do with this. I would only ask why Miss Weasley happened to be in that hallway at that time and if there is anything you, Mr. Potter, would have remembered that you have left out?"

"I'd finished Potions a few minutes prior and I was going for a walk, to clear my head," was all she said. Harry had known her long enough to tell when she was hiding something, and right now she was. He'd press her for it later. If it was a problem, he'd fix it. If it was a person, he'd kill it, and if it was neither of the above he'd ask Hermione and she would tell him what to do.

"That settles that," Dumbledore said smoothly. Locking eyes with a highly disgruntled Head of Slytherin House, he merely said, "Severus, it isn't a crime for students to be walking the corridors before curfew."

Turning his attention back to Harry Dumbledore continued, "Is there anything you'd like to tell us that you may have left out, Harry?"

Harry thought briefly about his midnight escapades, the Polyjuice potion simmering away in Myrtle's washroom, and finally about the disembodied voice Harry had heard. Even in the Kneazle world, hearing voices that weren't there wasn't a good sign. Harry didn't like it, but he had to do it, "No sir, nothing special."

Harry once again felt like he was being stripped away, layer by layer, as he stared into the sparkling blue eyes of the Headmaster. "Very well, you both may go. Please do try to stay out of trouble in before the train departs tomorrow."

Standing and gently shepherding Ginny out of the room, Harry waited until they were at least a good hundred yards from the stone gargoyle before he rounded on his smaller companion.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded.

"Don't you talk to me like that! I've a good reason to ask you the same thing. 'My Human'? What in the bloody, sodding, name of Merlin's wrinkly arse-cheeks did you mean by that?"

Harry reddened at the use of her invectives. In all his years as her faithful companion, the only words she'd ever directed at him were, praise and sometimes brief admonishment for getting her in trouble. Now she seemed genuinely upset.

"Well, we kind of watch out for each other, don't we?" he asked. Ginny merely nodded and crossed her arms. "And that makes us partners. Isis, Ginny! I don't know. I suppose I identify more with the creatures in the Forbidden Forest than I do to most people. If we're partners that makes you 'my Human' I guess. It just kind of slipped out." Harry couldn't believe he was having to lie like this to her. Every bone was crying out to simply show her why she WAS his human, but Dumbledore's rules stood, and moreover perhaps she wouldn't be as accepting of it all as he'd hoped. Perhaps, she'd disown him or tell others who might put him in a cage. The insecurities briefly assuaged his guilt of any falsehoods.

Ginny, however, was far from placated. "You're hiding something from me, Paws. Don't think I won't figure it out. I'll find out yet," she growled.

'Please, oh please do,' Harry prayed to Isis fervently. "That's fine, I hope you do. In the meantime, what were you doing just wandering around? Don't you know it's dangerous? There's a monster on the loose," Harry pleaded.

"Look… I… I was just on a walk. I needed to clear my head. That was all."

"You just had Potions, was Snape being a bastard again?"

"No, no more than usual," Ginny replied as they began ambling back towards the common room.

"Then what's got you in such a snit?" Harry pressed. "You've not been yourself for weeks now. At first I thought you just weren't feeling well, but you're smart enough to go to the Hospital if you need it. You say no one's been bothering you, so what's wrong? Please, Ginny, I want to help," Harry pleaded with so much conviction in his voice she nearly broke down right there.

"I've been feeling well enough, I suppose, but this year isn't going at all like I planned. First we crash the car and I've received two Howlers from Mum before term is even over. I have to go home Monday and face her. What if she doesn't let me come back? Then my wand's been broken and I've been having such a rough time with classes. My marks are nowhere near where they should be, and Mum can't afford a new wand anyway. She'll just say I have to make-do with what I have. I don't even have any friends!" she wailed inconsolably. Harry could feel his face get hot.

"Now, what do you mean by that?" Harry was practically yelling.

"Wha… oh, I mean besides you, Harry. I don't have anyone in my lessons to help me. Colin was the only one who I could partner with and now that he's… and none of the other girls would talk to me before and they'll all be terrified now! Hanging about with you, Harry, is the greatest, really it is, but I know you're only about because Ron or the Twins asked you to," Ginny finished with a melodramatic sigh.

Harry's eyes narrowed and he stopped walking very abruptly. "I don't know who sold you that bag of shite, Ginny, but I assure you I was never 'asked' to be your friend. I wrote you last year despite Ron, not because of him. I don't want you to think less of your brother, but I won't have you believing I'm here for anything less than you. If anyone bothers you, let me know and I'll sort them out, and as soon as we can get you a wand I'll buy it for you. You'll have anything you need, I promise."

"It isn't like I'll likely need it anyway. With all the problems I've caused I'll be surprised if Mum even considers letting me come back."

"Sparkplug, we've covered this. If you're not back by start of term, I'm coming to get you." Ginny shot him a clearly disbelieving look. "No really, we can live in the forest and attend school when it's in session. You'll be Ginny the wild witch!" Harry proclaimed, striking a dramatic pose. Sometimes he was so silly Ginny couldn't help but smile.

"I appreciate it Harry, but if she sends me to Beauxbatons or even Durmstrang, what'll you do then?"

"Then I'll be the Boy-Who-Transferred. I'm sure I can get in."

"You'd do that for me?" Ginny was in awe at the casual acceptance Harry had of the idea to travel to locations unknown all for... her. It flattered a girl really, but Ginny had a hard time believing it. Feeling better about the whole situation now, she decided not to press. He was an odd bloke, but seemingly the very best friend a girl could ask for. Now, all she needed to do was find the courage to tell him how she really felt in the deepest regions of her heart and they could get married and live happily ever after, she was sure of it!

Buoyed by the certainty of their impending nuptials, Ginny grabbed Harry's hand and rushed them back to the Gryffindor common room just in time to be met with a dark oppressive cloud of suspicion thick enough one could choke on it if not careful. Spotting Ron and Hermione in a corner arguing quietly, Harry and his Human made their way quickly over, trying to avoid dangerous stares being sent their way.

"Harry! Oh thank goodness, we were worried sick about you," Hermione gushed. Ron merely rolled his eyes.

"She was worried about you, mate. I knew you could take care of yourself."

Stepping in quickly, Harry asked the question that was on both his and Ginny's mind. "What the bloody hell is going on? It looks like someone tried to cancel Quidditch."

"Nothing as bad as all that, mate. It's just that word has gotten out about you and Ginny discovering Nearly-Headless Nick and the bloke from Hufflepuff. About half of them think you're the devil incarnate, and the other half thinks it's a bad smear campaign from Slytherin. If that wasn't enough, a bag full of doxies was set loose in the Hufflepuff common room and someone also charmed all the parchment in the Ravenclaw's dormitory to catch fire at the same time."

"I understand the Doxie problem, but what is so bad about the parchment? It isn't like they can't just get more," Ginny asked, puzzled.

"Well, it wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't charmed for the O.W.L revision session. It destroyed their homework, and seven students are in hospital now for burns and smoke inhalation," Hermione replied quickly.

"Leave it to Hermione to worry about the homework first," Ron grumped.

"Right, well, all that's bad, but what does it have to do with me?" Harry mused.

"Rumour is going around that you're the one who did it, and that you were trying to silence those who stood against you. If it wasn't for Wood and Neville, I think you might have had a mob on your tail," Ron replied quietly. "Neville gave a big speech here in the common room that convinced most of them I think, and Wood, Fred, and George made some rather menacing remarks about what would happen if you were hurt. Kind of scared me, you know? I've never heard the Twins talk that way before," Ron shuddered.

"No sense worrying about it tonight, tomorrow everyone goes home and I don't think they'll remember it over Christmas." All three of his friends sent Harry clearly disbelieving looks. Standing again Harry realised that he had forgotten the whole reason to find Ginny and motioned for her to follow him out of the portrait hole.

"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione asked, louder than strictly necessary.

"We're going to treat the Kneazles, they've kittens to feed and winter is harder on them than most. Don't wait up," and with that the portrait hole shut behind them and Harry and his Human headed out to give a little pre-emptive Christmas cheer to those in need.

oOo

The following Monday Harry saw Ginny off with mixed feelings. He was immeasurably sad that she would be absent for yet another holiday, and even the prospect of having the run of the castle seemed poor compensation. Yet, he was hopeful that the time away from the intrigue of the castle would raise her spirits back to the levels he was used to seeing them. Harry was hoping that the stares would die down and allow for Ginny to finally get her bearings. The stares that had followed him since the discovery of Mrs. Norris had compounded exponentially, and since Ginny was not only a frequent companion but also the first on the scene of Justin Finch-Fletchley's Petrification, she now shared in many of the suspicious glares and rumour mongering. Harry could ignore them, Ginny was much more affected.

The brief time since the last attack had seen people giving Harry a wide birth and whispering in the hallways, he was after all the primary suspect in the minds of his fellow students. Ginny, however, was subject to much more physical intimidation. She was merely the friend of the Heir and as such not subject to the same sort of fearful avoidance that her elder counterpart was given. Shoulders of older students would frequently slam into her slender frame, her books were knocked out of her hands more than once and her bag seemed to have had a never ending split seam. All of this would have driven anybody mad, and Harry did his best to try to escort her from place to place. The tipping point happened when several fourth-year Hufflepuffs cornered her in an alcove and began threatening some rather unpleasant acts if they caught her helping 'the dirty Snake Bastard'. Unfortunately, the dirty bastard in question had witnessed the entire incident.

Harry did not tolerate his Human being bullied, accosted, or intimidated and these badgers would need to be taught to stay in their burrows. So rapidly thinking, Harry evaluated his options. Option one: kill them all, the most satisfying but also messiest. Option two: tell a professor and try to have them 'reprimanded' or some such. This was neither messy nor satisfying. Option three: scare them out of their fur. Potentially messy and almost certainly satisfying.

Harry leapt out behind them and said in his best, deepest, most intimidating Parseltongue, "I'm going to eat you!" Of course none of the offending gentlemen could understand him, so even if he said 'your pants are pink and your mother dresses you funny' it would have had the same effect. The two furthest from him took one look and fled, while the remaining offender seemed to lose all thought processes as he stood there and let Harry advance on him. According to Harry's nose the boy also lost control of his bowels. After that, a simple 'leave her alone' did wonders and, according to Neville, by that evening it was well understood that the youngest Weasley was under the 'Prince's' protection. Harry thought it lucky that he'd been practicing his snake speech, even if it was for a far different application than he'd ever anticipated. Harry smiled briefly at the memory and then quickly cringed at the thought of the smell. Isis above, did the boy eat nothing but broccoli and beer?

Several days later the startled cries of Ron woke him from a perfectly wonderful nap. Did the boy have no consideration for those who were out all night carousing with his fellow Kneazles? Blinking slowly the room came into focus, and as happened more often than not, it was upside down. Standing above him was a very startled Hermione who wore a disapproving frown.

"Harry, how do you sleep that way? It can't be comfortable or good for your back," she scolded firmly.

"Leave him alone, Hermione. He's done that as long as he's been here. More often than not he's in the strangest positions. Once we found him sleeping on top of his canopy," Ron stretched and yawned.

"Is there something you need, Hermione? Or were you merely hoping to catch a glimpse of Ron's undergarments?" Harry grinned mischievously as Hermione turned beet-root red and could only sputter incoherently.

Finally she calmed down enough to say, "Well, a Happy Christmas to you too. It's ready."

"What's ready?" Ron asked blearily.

"The potion! It's ready today. All we have to do is get a bit of Crabbe and Goyle so you two can blend in," Hermione whispered rather loudly.

"I'm not drinking anyone's toenails," Ron replied stubbornly.

"Honestly, Ron, you don't have to. All you need is a bit of hair. I've some from Millicent Bulstrode that I plucked off her robes during the duelling club."

"And I suppose you have a plan on how to get them to 'cooperate'?" Ron looked at her sceptically.

"Of course."

Two hours later they were all set. The cupcakes were drugged and left in a ridiculously obvious place. Ron was keeping a lookout, Hermione was fretting nervously, and Harry had acquired a stout piece of lumber and was tapping it in his hand experimentally.

"I still don't know where you found that, or why you need it," Hermione snapped. The strain was apparent on her face.

"In case the potions don't work," Harry replied.

"They'll work, don't worry. Besides, you can't just go around hitting people with sticks. You'd be in terrible trouble."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Harry dismissed it breezily. "This is a 'forget me' stick."

Hermione looked puzzled. "Is it enchanted or something?"

Harry grinned back wickedly, "If you hit hard enough, it certainly can be." A shushing from Ron brought any further conversation to a halt as all three friends scooted out to view their plan.

As anticipated, both Crabbe and Goyle had found the cupcakes and were busy eating all of them. Harry waited, and waited, for an eternity it seemed. Finally he'd had enough. Waving off Hermione and Ron, Harry slunk around behind the two behemoths (it amazed him at how unobservant they were) until he was positioned directly behind them. They were a little taller than he was, so Harry had to jump. A small rabbit hop up and… perfect! He swung the forget-me stick and it exploded brilliantly on both heads. The larger boy's eyes rolled back in their skulls and they sunk to the ground with only a low grunt apiece.

Harry stood and admired his work until he was interrupted by a very upset Hermione and a sniggering Ron. "Harry! Why did you do that? You didn't even wait for the potion to work."

"I did so, Hermione. It was taking too long, an eternity really," was Harry's retort.

"You only waited thirty seconds."

"Whose side are you on, Ron?" Harry snapped.

"Come on, mate, let's get these robes off and nick some hair," Ron rolled his eyes as he asked for help. Ten minutes later they were all set. They drank the potion, had transformed into two very ugly replicas of Crabbe and Goyle and had realised that Hermione's hadn't gone quite right. At her insistence they'd gone off without her. The clock was ticking after all.

oOo

Hermione was feeling awful. The potion didn't work at all the way it was supposed to, not for her anyway. Apparently, it was never designed for animal transformations, and from the mirror that Madam Pomfrey had given her it seemed apparent that Miss Bulstrode was in possession of a cat. As if to confirm the fact, Hermione went into another of her hacking fits that Madam Pomfrey had chalked up to hairballs.

The woman was amazing; Hermione had no doubt about that. She didn't even ask what the problem was, simply diagnosed and treated. She had even offhandedly commented once that she saw no reason to inform Professor McGonagall, except to say that one of her students was sick and that any homework should be sent to the hospital wing.

Sitting in the same room as the Petrified forms of two boys and one ghost was a bit unnerving though. She prayed dearly that Harry and Ron could prove it was Malfoy and end the whole thing tonight. Well, Ron might be able to. She wasn't at all sure that Harry would be up to the task, not without bludgeoning, assaulting, eviscerating or mashing any potential suspects into a confession.

Lord that boy was violent. Hermione prided herself on many things, and one of them happened to be self-control. She did not get into fights, even with people who deserved it, she attended every class regardless of her state of health or interest and she tried never to say an unkind word to those around her. She failed occasionally on the last point, however it was nothing compared to the company she kept.

Ron was rude, thoughtless and rather lazy and Harry… where did she start with Harry? The boy made no sense at all. Often times she felt dealing with him was more like dealing with an oversized house cat than a person. The way he stretched, walked, and seemingly always landed on his feet, both physically and metaphorically. Harry was an enigma she hoped one day to possibly understand. The one thing that might be said for in his defence was that Harry was particularly self-reliant and independent. A trait which seemed to be rubbing off a little on everyone he was associated with. Hermione had no doubt that the months hanging around her violent friend were what gave her the courage to march up to see Madam Pomfrey without an escort.

She still couldn't place him, though. She'd looked up all the usual causes and even some very unusual ones. The only thing that had any relation at all to Harry was the idea of some sort of animal transformation. He was too young to be an Animagus. Most people had to spend years working on it, and many never accomplished it at all. Settling back, she vowed to do the right thing: ask Professor McGonagall.

"Hermione… bloody hell woman!" Ron's immeasurable tact did not escape him as he shouted just softly enough not to earn an immediate removal from her bedside. "We were looking all over for you. What happened?"

Hermione quickly explained the mix up, interrupted only once by a fit of hacking. "Well… Did you find anything? Is Malfoy the heir or not?"

"Sadly no," Harry replied wistfully, "And as entertaining as it would have been for Crabbe and Goyle to have beaten the little stoat to death with a picture of one of his ancestors, Ron did convince me that it wouldn't have done much good at the time. As it was we barely made it out in time to avoid detection. I'm sorry if it isn't satisfactory."

"The only thing we did learn was that Dad's under investigation by the Ministry for the flying car and apparently last time the Chamber opened, someone died," Ron shuddered at the thought. "But that greasy git isn't the one attacking Muggleborns."

"No, no. It's as you said before, right, Harry? I mean, it would be just too easy if it was Malfoy. We need to look harder, find something that hasn't been looked at yet," any further pontification was cut off by another stream of hacking.

"Hermione, you look positively frightful," Ron said shortly. Harry's agreeing nod did nothing to put her in a better mood. "How long does this last?"

"I don't know. Madam Pomfrey couldn't tell me."

"Is it just the hairballs, then?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Well, yes, I suppose."

"Hmm… I'll bring you something for that tomorrow. In the meantime, don't lick any of your fur. I'll show you an old Kneazle remedy." Harry smiled that odd little smile and motioned for Ron to follow and with that they left her alone again with her thoughts and the Petrified forms of fellow students. There were so many mysteries and such little time.

_AN: Hello all. Firstly I would like to say thank you to everyone who reviewed. I try to answer every review (with the exception of one word reviews) but with the recent change to I had to readjust and at that point I couldn't remember who I had responded to or not. So this is in response to all who I might have missed… THANK YOU! I appreciate each and every review. Not too much to say about this chapter, except for addressing one concern that seems to keep popping up. Several people have mentioned the similarities between my story and Canon… firstly the end results might very well be similar because no major events have taken place to alter it (obviously the Diary still came to Hogwarts). Secondly this is getting close to the end so I don't want to go crazy, but I do ask patience as it unfolds. Ch 20 is one of the better ones and should answer some lingering questions. 2 weeks and you'll have it! In the meantime enjoy this here._


	20. Returns and Valentines

Ch. 20 Returns and Valentines

Harry pranced in the new fallen snow. Today was perfect, even for the end of winter holidays. Ginny had smuggled a letter to Harry on Errol that said she would be returning that afternoon on the train, all the Kneazle kittens had weathered the blizzard despite the lack of available food, and the Unicorn herd had told him they would be returning to the forest on a permanent basis again. Harry had even enjoyed a nice cup of tea with Hagrid that morning; a nearly daily ritual now that winter holidays were upon them.

Gazing at the sky, Harry noticed, the sun was sinking dangerously low on the horizon. There might be only an hour left of decent daylight. Not that this meant anything to Harry's superior night senses, he was born in the dark (or so Mum always said), but Ginny would be returning in a few minutes. Bidding a hasty farewell to all his companions, Harry raced back to the castle and transformed once more impatiently waiting the tortuous forty minutes until his Human would once more be safe under his ever-watchful eye.

The opening of the portrait swung open and the returning students filtered in. Frowning faces saddened from the loss of their temporary freedom and the prospect of the return of school drudgery. The notable exception was the smallest Weasley who scampered, to an equally excited Harry. She flung her arms around his neck and cried, "It's so good to see you! I thought break would never end."

Harry was impressed. Her colour had returned, and she was looking happier and healthier than when she'd left. Perhaps being away from all the scowling and rumours had done her good after all. "I'm glad you're back too. The Kneazles have missed you," Harry smiled fiendishly. Ginny always was a cat girl.

"Really? Can we go see them? Please, oh please?"

"Sure, any time you want. How was the Burrow?"

"Oh… not too terrible, I suppose. Mum did go spare when she found out I hadn't gotten the Howlers she sent, and then she went spare again when she found out I hadn't brought my trunk home."

"She didn't ask why though, did she?" Harry looked worried.

"No, she just worried, like she always does," Ginny replied airily.

"I'm glad it went well, you seem in a better state than when you left," Harry smiled kindly.

"Well, it was a bit of a shock, and it's hard to concentrate in lessons when I have to worry about the school forming a mob to come get you." Harry smiled as Ginny continued rambling, "It wasn't too bad at home. Mum is afraid I'm becoming some sort of juvenile delinquent and Dad was just happy to have some father-daughter time I think. It was a bit irritating, all the fussing and watching over me they did, and without you or Harry the Kneazle about there wasn't much for me to do besides walk a bit and hole up in my room with tea. Let me tell you, Harry, a girl needs more than her parents and her diary to keep her company."

Harry stiffened at the word 'diary'. "Ginny," Harry's tone was confrontational at best "I thought you told me you'd gotten rid of that thing."

"Harry," Ginny was equally as hard, "Girls write in diaries. I am a girl; ergo I might have a diary. Deal with it. It isn't competition for you. There are just some things I might not want to spread around. It helps me organize my thoughts and settle things. Leave it alone."

"I never said it was competition, and I never said you couldn't. I just don't want you writing to him!"

"Who?" Ginny's innocent act didn't fool Harry for a moment.

"Tom! That's who. That book is evil, Ginny. I felt it and I hate it! Get rid of it please. Any other will do, just please stop talking to Tom," Harry begged.

"Tom?" Ginny wore an expression of confusion. "Tom… who's Tom? Oh! You mean that old thing. Don't worry, I got rid of that a long time ago," she smiled brightly.

"Ginny, don't lie to me," Harry growled out with surprising intensity.

Ginny finally huffed, rolled her eyes and began digging through her bag. After a minute she finally pulled out a new-looking leather-bound book with a stylized Gryffindor Lion on the front that would roar occasionally. It was adorned in red and gold down the sides and had the words 'G.M. Weasley' down the binding. She waved her wand once at it and threw the book forcefully at the infuriating boy.

Harry caught it easily and flipped quickly through the pages. All the ink had stayed, and upon each page was the penmanship of Ginny's distinctive, small hand. There was no Tom, and certainly no evil magic contained in the pages he was breezing through. It was simply a normal, if slightly enchanted, book.

"Where's the other one?" Harry glared through slitted eyes.

"Paws, stop being so dramatic. I traded it, no big deal, right? I sold it for two licorice wands and nine Sickles. That's how I could buy this one, it was on special and I even had six Knuts left over."

"I guess that makes sense. When did you do that?"

"A couple of days after Fred and George caught us with it," she smiled smugly.

"Why in the sexing hell didn't you tell me? You let me think you were wandering around with that dark piece of trash for months!"

"Because… no one tells Ginny Weasley what to do." She gave Harry a piercing gaze and sauntered up the stairs to her dormitory. Harry reflected that while this made her an unbelievable pain in the arse, she was the only one with enough strength to be his Human.

oOo

Things returned to a state of normality in the following weeks. Harry spent copious amounts of time introducing Ginny to many of the Forest residents beyond the Kneazles, Hermione finally got out of hospital, Ron didn't study enough and obsessed about Quidditch, and Neville was spending whatever time wasn't allotted to mucking about with Harry and company, mucking about within the greenhouses with Professor Sprout. He always managed to find a new technique or plant to share with the group.

So it was a strange deviation one night when Harry returned to the common room with Ron and not his usual fiery-haired companion. The fires had nearly burned out and the lights were dimmed, but a feeling of intense unease settled over Harry's sixth and seventh senses. It was common knowledge that some people had a sixth sense about things, but a little known fact was that Kneazles bypassed the sixth sense altogether in favour of the much more accurate and defined seventh. Harry seemed to have both.

His eyes scanned the darkened room carefully when he finally located the source of the disturbance. There on the table lay an old nondescript book with the faded markings on the spine that said 'T.M. Riddle'. Harry's hackles went up and he almost hissed in anger. If he concentrated on it long enough, Harry could feel the evil radiating off the book in question. "Ron, don't touch it!" Harry yelled, as Ron's hand edged perilously close to the small book.

"Why not?" Ron asked confused.

"I don't like it. It doesn't feel right."

"Harry, you get an awful lot of feelings about an awful lot of things. What harm can the book do?"

"Dammit Ron! I've seen this one before, it talks back," Harry almost yelled.

"Really? That's kind of unusual. You think it's just a joke or what?"

"No, I think it's kind of evil. I think we should just throw it out that window."

The heated discussion was interrupted by two people forcefully clearing their throats. "That's ours, Potter."

Harry looked up to see a very angry-looking Fred and George Weasley standing not thirty feet from him. With purposeful strides they quickly closed the distance and stood toe to toe with both Harry and Ron.

"Hey now, we found it," Ron snorted indignantly. Harry remained silent. He could feel there was something off about them. These were not the fun-loving, happy twins of summer escapades. Consequently both older boys turned their attention to their younger sibling, giving him a forceful shove that almost sent him reeling.

"You know Ronald, we have three other brothers and a very cute sister. We don't, strictly speaking, need you. Now, if you'd be so kind as to hand over Mr. Riddle there, we'd be happy to go on our way and forget this whole thing," Fred said softly.

"On the other hand we are rather short of test subjects for some of our inventions and you would suit perfectly for that. So we leave it up to you Ronald," George concluded.

Opening his mouth a few times and closing it equally quickly produced no sound. However, Harry wasn't going to let this go without a fight. This book seemed awfully important and someone might want to have a look at it. "Don't give it to them, Ron," Harry growled.

"Oh? Really, Harry? I thought you had more sense than that. Now if you won't give it to us, we'll have to take it." Both twins wore identical grins. It made Harry's blood go cold. However, he couldn't let them have it back. Harry leapt at the closer of the two twins, feeling fairly confident. He'd killed professors, trolls, and broken Malfoy's nose numerous times. How dangerous could these two be?

"Ron, run!" Harry yelled. Ron remained rooted to the spot, as though hit with a Body Bind curse. Rolling over and exchanging punches was harder than Harry had imagined. Both twins were Beaters, and several years older than he. This gave them the advantage in both size and strength; Harry only had speed, and that was quickly negated when Harry remembered there were two of them.

"_Constrictus_!" Harry felt as though a cold leather glove was constricting steadily around his throat. He tried to shout, to pull his wand, but Fred merely swatted it away.

"Ah, ah, ah, Harry. Should have thought of that earlier," Fred said lazily. He put his face close to Harry's and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "If you ever try that again, I'll kill you. Now piss off." With that, the choking ended and Harry slumped to the floor seeing stars. Looking over he saw George whisper something to Ron. Ron's face went ashen and for a split second Harry thought he might throw up, until George followed it up with a swift punch in the gut, dropping his younger brother to the floor.

Harry's gasping breaths and Ron's low moans subsided after a minute and they finally locked eyes.

"I really don't like your brothers, Ron."

"Me neither."

oOo

Despite the obvious change in Ron's brothers Harry hadn't had any more trouble with them since. Coincidentally the mood had begun to lift inside the castle as the middle of February rolled in. The sun had begun to shine weakly again, and there had been no further attacks since Justin and Nearly-Headless Nick. That morning breakfast was a grandiose affair. There was pink confetti falling from the rafters, and large lurid pink flowers adorned all the tables. The only thing worse was the lurid pink robes Lockhart was wearing that matched the flowers.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, rather confused.

Ron merely pointed to the teachers' table as Lockhart rose. "Good morning to you all, and happy Valentine's Day. Firstly I'd like to thank the forty-eight of you who've already sent me a Valentine, and it is in that spirit that I've taken the liberty to arrange this little surprise for you all..."

The Defence professor then described the festivities of the day. He introduced his card carrying cupids that looked more like disgruntled dwarfs in nappies, and to assure the student population that his colleagues would want to 'get into the spirit of the day'. Professor Snape would offer to brew love potions and apparently Flitwick knew quite a bit about enticing enchantments, or so said the blond man speaking. Harry doubted both statements and Snape looked like the first person to ask him for a love potion would be force fed poison.

"Who'd be odd enough to try to send something like that?" Ron asked as they were leaving breakfast. "I mean really, little diaper clad dwarfs singing valentines in front of everyone? Sounds a bit daft to me."

"I dunno, Ron. I suppose it depends how it's done," Harry replied somewhat distractedly. Looking out the window, Harry's eyes drank in the first strong rays of sunlight in sometime. He wanted desperately to go frolic.

"What the bloody hell do you mean by that?"

"Like I said, it depends how it's done. If it came with a mouse or rabbit or something it would prove your dedication as a hunter and worthiness as a mate. Isn't this kind of the same thing?"

"You're barmy, Harry, positively barmy." Both students missed the excited gleam Ron's sister had in her eye as Harry walked her to Transfiguration.

Later that day one of the singing dwarfs finally caught up with Harry on his way to Charms. "You 'Arry Potter?"

Harry stared the smaller creature down, his steely gaze daring the sparsely swathed humanoid to deliver his message. It wasn't very effective. "You 'Arry Potter?" It asked again. Harry gave a jerky nod, his body rigid with discomfort. The dwarf then began to sing

His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad

His hair is as dark as a blackboard

He is really divine, I wish he were mine

The hero who conquered the Dark Lord.

Harry grimly bore the laughter in the hallway. As he stood looking at the various faces, Harry felt something he could not remember every feeling before: embarrassment. At least that is what he thought it was. Fortunately Harry's Kneazle luck came through once more to help dispel any lingering human feelings. "Merlin, Potter. Your girlfriend's poetry sounds like a Kneazle in heat," the jeering voice of Malfoy cut across the laughing crowd. Most of the first years were cowed by the older boy's reputation and his larger friends' size.

"What did you say?" Harry's ire was earned, now. No one insulted his family like that. Harry's predatory instincts came kicking into high gear

"You heard me! Your girlfriend's poetry sounds like a Kneazle in heat." In an instant Harry's wand was out and half a second away from casting the most devastating curse he could think of, when the voice of Percy Weasley interrupted him.

"What's going on here? All of you clear off!" came the ringing voice of Percy.

Harry didn't move and Draco looked contemptuously at the Weasley prefect.

"Now see here, as a school prefect..." Percy began.

"Diffindo," came the barely whispered spell from Ron and Malfoy's bag split wide open. Malfoy looked furious and both Crabbe and Goyle stepped menacingly forward, almost within reach of Harry.

"Ron! I'm going to have to report this. You aren't allowed to use magic in the hallways," Percy fumed. Ron merely looked smug.

"You aren't?" Harry feigned surprise, even as Percy fixed him with an icy glare. Harry turned slightly sideways and gave a small smile. Without warning he crouched low and shot out, ramming his shoulder into Crabbe's stomach.

The bigger boy gave a loud "Ooof!" as he doubled over. Harry grabbed his opponent's head and brought his knee into play, knocking one of the other boy's front teeth out. Blood came out of his mouth as Crabbe sank to his knees and Harry fixed Goyle with an icy stare.

"You fancy a go twinkle toes?" When Goyle didn't move, Harry continued. "No? You're about as dangerous as a Corgi. Remember that next time you threaten my friends," Harry said in a low voice. Finally he turned to Malfoy, "Keep your dogs in check, ferret. Next time I won't be so pleasant." With that Harry strode resolutely past Ron, Neville, Hermione, and a speechless Percy. This day was certainly shaping up to be a strange one.

Dinner did little to improve the day. Harry had landed detention for his physical altercation, despite his protests that he didn't in fact use magic in the corridor and nothing about knees or shoulders were specified. "You know better, Mr. Potter. I don't think it necessary for the faculty to specify every point of order that must be maintained," was all McGonagall had said. Harry had been eating rather slowly for a minute, before he realised anyone was even trying to get his attention. "Hello? Anyone in there, Paws?" Ginny's voice carried easily and snapped Harry out of his contemplations.

"What's wrong?" Harry replied.

"Oh, nothing," Ginny said lazily. Harry knew that when she cocked her head to the left and wetted her lips just a little, there was always something wrong.

"Really, is something the matter?"

"No, not really. I was just wondering what you thought about your mysterious Valentine," Ginny said with a slight waver in her voice. Now, it had been noted that Harry was not the fastest on the uptake with either females or humans, and human females he was sure to be a loss with. However, not even king of the boneheads could mistake what the implied problem was here. Harry smiled at the transparency of her ploy.

Ginny was jealous. She was afraid that Harry was looking to take a mate and would stop being her friend. He merely needed to reassure her that he wasn't going anywhere; he wasn't old enough for a mate yet anyway.

"It was complete dog's bollocks. The girl who sent it has no sense of me. I doubt she could really ever understand. She's likely ugly, too," Harry finished. He smiled, satisfied with his work. That should hold her fears in check. Instead her eyes welled up and she burst into tears, running out of the Great Hall at an alarming pace. Harry looked at Ron and Neville who both looked as bemused as he. "What did I do?" Harry wondered aloud. His head snapped to the right at Hermione's derisive snort.

"Sometimes, Harry, you have the emotional depth of a teaspoon," she said dismissively.

Hermione finally explained Harry's mistake, but Ginny didn't talk to Harry, despite his best efforts, for the next three weeks. Instead he had to contend with the bane of every second year student, elective course selections. Hermione was very keen to remind them at every opportunity that it would affect their whole future.

"I wonder if I can drop History of Magic," Harry mused out loud.

"You've just about dropped it anyway, so what does it matter?" Ron snorted.

"Harry, you can't just drop an important class like that," Hermione reprimanded.

Harry was quiet for a moment, as he intensely studied his course list for next year. "Oh really? I think I just did," he grinned maniacally.

"What on earth are you talking about? Everyone has to take it," Hermione balked.

"Not this Kneazle!" Harry crowed. At Ron and Hermione's exchanged looks he flushed a deep red and passed over his schedule. Hermione snatched it out of his hand and scanned it thoroughly.

"Harry, you're one class short. It is listing you for three electives, you really don't have History." Hermione sounded both confused and vaguely disapproving. Harry merely smiled.

"Brilliant, Harry!" Ron shouted.

"No, Ron, it isn't. You need to talk to Professor McGonagall about this immediately," Hermione cautioned.

"Not happening, Herimone. I've three electives and somehow I don't have to sit through that class anymore," Harry replied.

"Harry, you don't sit through it now. You never go," Ron shot back.

"Right, but now I can take a class that I'll learn something in. For the good of my education I am willing to forego skiving off History of Magic and instead buckle down and learn a real class, like Arithmancy or Ancient Runes," Harry concluded self-righteously. "Of course I'm also going to take Divination."

"Why's that?" Hermione asked warily.

"Because Ron told me it was the easiest class available, and I don't want to work too hard," Harry said, rolling on his back.

"Harry! Don't you care at all about your future? You should take what you need, not what is easiest."

"Well then, maybe you can tell me what to take," Harry sighed.

"First you have to tell me what you'd like to do," she shot back.

"Come off it Hermione, only you and Percy have ever thought about what you want to do at this stage," Ron said, giving her arm a light shove.

"No, I've thought about it. In fact I think I've nearly decided," Harry cut in.

"Well, what do you want to do?" Hermione's anticipation was palpable.

"I want to be the Grounds-Keeper at Hogwarts," Harry replied. "Or a male prostitute, do you think N.E.W.T. marks in Muggle Studies would help improve my client base?"

Hermione's jaw was hanging open as she sputtered for words. Harry finally decided enough was enough, "No, not really." Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "Hagrid's likely going to have that job for awhile yet, so that really only leaves one choice then doesn't it?" Ron was struggling to control his laughter and Hermione got up and stalked away.

"Oh, bugger," Ron muttered. "Now she'll be in a snit for the rest of the day."

"Yes, but she'll be so preoccupied with my career choice that she'll forget to bother you about your class selection." At Ron's stunned expression, Harry merely batted a hand. "No, no you don't have to thank me. Her expression was thanks enough."

"Harry, that was positively... devious," Ron sounded almost incredulous.

"Well, I do have my moments from time to time. The times are simply getting more frequent," and closing his schedule, Harry stood and walked off to try and find Ginny again. Maybe, finally, she would let him explain.

Tracking his Human down was harder than expected, but he finally found her sobbing in an upstairs classroom. "Ginny, please let me explain," Harry began. She merely harrumphed and turned her back. Finally taking Hermione's advice, Harry tried everything. He apologised, tried explaining his mistake and finally resorted to producing a white Trillium he'd found deep in the Forbidden Forest and fastened it into her hair with a fancy hair clip he'd liberated from Arabella at the beginning of the summer. "I'm very sorry," was his last words as he walked away, more troubled than he'd arrived. He'd never had a fight like this with Ginny and he was feeling lost and rather incomplete without her new bubbly personality that resumed since her return from Holiday.

The next day went better though, a soft 'I'm sorry too,' was all she said, but the fact that she began laughing and would sit next to him again spoke in greater volumes than he'd ever hoped. Harry retired to the comfort of his bed that night, knowing for certainty that Ginny had finally forgiven him. The evidence of which he discovered tucked gently beneath his pillow. A box of Kneazle treats, cheese and liver flavoured, were deposited with a softness that made his insides dance. Harry, however, was too excited to think about any sentimentality at that point. He ripped the box open and plunged his hand into the container of ultimate deliciousness, drawing out a handful. He'd run out last week, and it had been excruciating. Harry never went anywhere without his treats.

Taking one from his handful, Harry raised it carefully to his mouth preparing to savour supreme delectability. A whiskers width from his mouth an unusual scent struck his nose. Closing his eyes and concentrating Harry's acute senses found the source of the smell. His beloved box of Kneazle treats, the small juicy nuggets, had been spiked with something. Looking quickly to make sure he was alone, Harry made the change to allow his superior Kneazle senses to detect what his weak human ones couldn't.

It was poison. It had to be. Harry had smelled poisons before, ones for rats, ones for snakes and even once for Kneazles. This was like nothing he had ever smelled before, but the sickly sweet aroma spoke of alluring death. Harry mentally cursed whoever had given him the box. Poisoning Kneazle treats was a crime against Isis herself. Kneazle treats were the gift of Isis to all Kneazles for fulfilling their job of watching over humans. To poison something so pure was unthinkable.

Changing back Harry grabbed the box and headed out for the one person who could possibly understand, Cousin McGonagall.

oOo

"Harry, someone's trying to kill you! Why aren't you taking this more seriously?" Hermione asked once again.

"Maybe because you've been on me about this for weeks and I just can't find it in myself to care anymore," came Harry's sharp reply.

"But someone really has it in for you. Professor Snape said it was Basilisk Venom used in the poison," Hermione continued.

"Snape said he thought it was Basilisk venom. No one's seen one for over four hundred years," Harry replied tartly.

Hermione waved her hand dismissively, "Doesn't mean a thing. I'm sure you can get it if need be. There are many things He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did that were previously thought impossible, or at least very unlikely."

"Hermione, leave him alone. We've got Hufflepuff for the Cup today," Ron exclaimed. Harry smiled, good old Ron. Always looking after what was important.

"Ron, I can't believe you. Someone's trying to kill your best mate and all you can think about is Quidditch?" Hermione came back.

"Really they're one in the same aren't they? I mean if we lose Harry, we aren't going to be winning Quidditch matches and if he isn't in top form Quidditch might finish him off before the Heir of Slytherin can," Ginny cut in before attacking a plate full of toast.

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it again. Harry could practically hear the gears turning, and he decided a safer subject would be best. "I'm going to go see Hagrid today after the Cup. Anyone want to come along with me?" Both Neville and Ginny quickly nodded and along with an enthusiastic yes from Ron made four. "Hermione?"

"Oh, I don't know, Harry. We've just been to see him a little while ago."

"Hermione, you haven't been to see him in almost six weeks. I've seen him only three days ago and I'm still planning to go."

"But you see him all the time. I just feel like we don't have anything to talk about. I don't want him to think we're doing it out of pity," Hermione said softly.

Harry dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand. "You just have to get to know him a bit. You like history. Did you know Hagrid's been the Gamekeeper here for nearly fifty years? I bet he has lots of great stories."

Hermione instantly focused, "How many... exactly?" 

Harry missed her driving tone and continued breezily, "Forty nine. He took a year off between when he got expelled and when he started. Took Dumbledore almost that long to find him."

"And you never thought to tell us about this why?" Hermione's tone was shrill.

"I dunno. Not really a positive end for the evening is it? He was kind of drunk when he told me, so I'm not sure if he remembers," Harry concluded.

"Harry, do you realise the significance?" Hermione's question was met by a series of blank stares. It seemed no one realised the significance so Hermione ploughed on. "Come on, we know Hagrid was expelled, we know the Chamber was opened fifty years ago, we know someone died. Hagrid could tell us what happened!"

"Hermione, now you're starting to act like Ron," Ginny began and tactfully ignored a shout of protest from her elder sibling. "Don't you think Dumbledore would have already asked? Or anyone else for that matter? Why don't we ask McGonagall or even Professor Binns?"

"Two reasons," Harry cut in. "Firstly, teachers won't tell us what we need to know and secondly Hagrid was there. I think we can ask safely."

"That'll be a happy conversation," Ron remarked dully.

"It's our only clue. We'll have to talk to him after the game," Hermione was firm. Any further discussion was interrupted by Wood's booming voice.

"Alright, Gryffindors! Time to gear up." Harry stood from the table and began walking with Ron and Hermione towards the changing room. "Where did Ginny and Neville go?" Harry asked, a little concerned.

"Oh, they went to save us some seats. All the good ones will be taken by the time we get finished seeing you off," Ron replied.

'Rip... Tear... Kill... This time Kill...'

"Sexing squirrel teats!" Harry yelled. "That voice, did you hear the voice?" He looked pleadingly at both Hermione and Ron.

"No mate, sorry," Ron replied.

"Wait... you heard the voice just there?" Hermione questioned.

"Yes, isn't that what I just said," Harry replied.

"I have to get to the library. I'll see you later," Hermione said hurriedly.

"What the bloody..."

"It's Hermione, Ron. Don't ask," was all Harry could find to say.

Ten minutes later Harry was listening to a speech, but not of the usual 'or die trying' routine. Instead Oliver Wood was promising long lasting death to one Fred Weasley, despite his twin's assurances that Fred would be along presently. "Honestly Wood, he just wasn't feeling himself today. Madam Pomfrey is going to give him a look over and then she'll send him down. No need to worry," George's tone was dismissive.

"If he isn't, there's going to be hell to pay, Weasley," Wood growled. Luckily for all involved, not a second later the Fred in question sauntered into the room, sat down and propped his feet up on a chair. Wood launched into his usual pre-game warm up but no one was listening. Harry was thinking about the Snitch, Fred and George were making obscene gestures at the Chasers and the Chasers were glaring death threats at the Twins. "Let's go Team!" Wood finally shouted and it was without the usual enthusiasm that the Gryffindors left to take the pitch. They never made it.

"Everyone back to your dormitories," Professor McGonagall said shortly.

"Professor, the Cup!" Wood protested.

"Will not be held this year, Mr. Wood. So head back, NOW!" Her voice was strained and she locked eyes with Harry. "Mr. Potter, I believe you and Mr. Ronald Weasley will need to accompany me."

Harry wondered how it was possible they thought he'd done anything this time, and there was very little they hadn't caught him for. What could they possibly want both Ron and him for?

They headed silently towards the Hospital wing, now joined by Ron, and standing outside the large doors McGonagall turned to them. "This is going to be a shock," she said gently. "There has been another attack... a double attack."

Harry's mind and stomach did summersaults. Who, what... where? "Who Professor?" Harry burst out. Instead of responding, she merely led them in the door. They passed a bed that had been unoccupied at Harry's last visit and sneaking a look Harry could make out the curly haired form of Penelope Clearwater. At least he thought it was her, their last meeting didn't leave a lot of time for Harry to stare at her face. However, their final destination held someone with whom both boys were very familiar. "Hermione..." Ron moaned. Harry said nothing, but the sharp grinding of his molars drew both Ron and their Professor's attention.

"I know this is a shock," she began, but Harry wasn't listening. Hermione had been attacked, Harry had to find answers and the last thing she had told them to do was talk to Hagrid.

"Do either of you know anything about this?" McGonagall held up a small round mirror that jolted Harry out of his inner rage. Both boys shook their heads. "Very well, I'll escort you back to the tower. I have to make an announcement anyway," she sighed.

"Hey, Ron," Harry started.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me how it goes," Harry replied quickly and without warning ran full force and leaped out the window gracefully traversing the ten feet to the ground and took off in a dead sprint towards Hagrid's hut.

"Well, Professor, what kind of chances do you give the Canons next year?" Ron asked nervously. His grin did nothing to hide the tension on his face.

"Rubbish, Weasley, and you know it," she said sharply. "Now come on, I have to get you back and then hunt down that boy."

Safely out of sight, Harry had reverted to his more natural four-legged form and covered the distance in what felt like seconds. Finally, he was knocking on Hagrid's door. A less pleasant social visit Harry couldn't imagine.

_AN: So I hope this wraps it all up for you. For anyone who is asking why was Ginny acting funny, read chapter 19 again. Anywhoo… this chapter is dedicated wholly and unequivocally to Europec without whom book 2 would be mediocre at best. He gave me the idea for the twins diary. Consequently has anyone else seen a twins have the diary story? Finally, I have some bad news. Due to creative work stoppage (my muse is on strike) the updates will continue at once every two weeks until further notice. Thanks for being patient. Hope you enjoy and remember to let me know what you think._


	21. Departures and Revelations

Ch. 21 Departures and Revelations

"Who's 'ere?" Hagrid's booming voice made Harry's ears hurt.

"Just me, Hagrid," Harry replied. "Please open up. I have to ask you a question."

The door flew open, exposing a scowling Hagrid and a very alarmed Fang. "What're you doin' 'ere now, Harry? I jus' heard 'bout the attack at the Castle. You should be up in yer common room," Hagrid scolded.

Harry pushed past him into the hut and motioned for the door to close. When both he and Hagrid were seated Harry looked the larger man dead in the eye. "Hagrid, I'm sorry for what I have to ask, but I have to ask it. What happened fifty years ago with the Chamber of Secrets?"

Hagrid sat up, ramrod straight and sputtered a little bit. "'Ere now, what're you doin' lookin' after that mess. I didn't have nothin' to do with it. Nothin' I say, and that's all I'm sayin'. Ain't fittin' fer yer ears, Harry."

"Please, Hagrid. Hermione's been attacked. Right now she's up in one of those beds, Petrified, and I need to know from someone who was there what happened. Who did it? Were they caught? I need to know, if we're going to solve this," Harry pleaded. Twenty more minutes of gentle cajoling did nothing to ease the Gamekeeper's mind. Finally, Harry had enough.

"What the hell are you hiding, Hagrid?" Harry shouted. The abrupt change in demeanor startled both Hagrid and Fang.

"Nothin'! Nothin' I tell yeh. It jus' ain't fittin' fer yer ears."

"Hagrid, my ears have heard an awful lot. You know more than you're telling and I need to know what it is. Who did it? Were they ever caught? What are you afraid of?" All traces of Harry's previous pleasant demeanor were gone. If Hagrid didn't know better, he would have sworn that Harry was twenty feet tall and about to spank him like an untruthful child.

"I'm... They're goin' teh think it was me again. They expelled me last time, I didn't do nothin'. I don' know what they'll do this time," Hagrid nearly broke down in tears.

"Hagrid, why would they think it was you? You are many things, but stupid and malicious aren't among them. I know someone died. I don't think you could have had anything to do with something like that. Me, maybe, but not you. Tell me what happened, please."

Hagrid lifted his big head and wiped a grubby hand at red eyes, barely holding back the tears. "I foun' him as a little 'un. Wouldn' hurt nobody, still never did. They don' never attack me when I go teh see 'em. Then that bloke prefect, Tom was his name, foun' out about 'im an' turned me in. Said 'I was the one' that 'I'd have teh face the consequences'. I didn' hurt nobody, an' neither did he,"

"Hagrid, we're friends, right?" Harry stared intently at Hagrid, gauging every movement for a clue that the man was lying.

"O' course," Hagrid sniffled

"And friends don' lie to each other do they?"

"No, not if they're good ones,"

"And you're one of the best, Hagrid," Harry said sincerely. "I know this is hard, but I need to know... Did you ever open the Chamber of Secrets?"

"NO! I told yeh' that 'Arry. I found the little tyke with some travelin' bloke one summer an' I brought him with me. I raised him in a cupboard. He didn't go near that bathroom, I swear," Hagrid bellowed. Harry winced in pain at the loud sound. Hagrid's denial was forceful, but as sure as Harry could be, the man was telling the truth.

"Wait, who was it that you raised, Hagrid?"

"Oh, yeh wouldn't know 'im, but he's..." Hagrid was interrupted by a loud banging on the door. The day wasn't quite whittled away yet. "Hide!" Hagrid whispered none too softly, and a second after Hagrid had turned his back Harry was gone out the window of the hut, four legs leaping and tail flying. It was amazing how much faster he could make the change when scared, it was almost without thought. The next few minutes were tense and unpleasant.

One Cornelius Fudge, no doubt one of the Ministries many drones, had come to take Hagrid to Azkaban. Willpower he didn't know he had was all that stopped Harry from rending the little man limb from limb. Then a really unpleasant creature came in, the senior Malfoy. The man was senior in every way Harry could think of, senior in slime, senior in corruption, and senior in erectile dysfunction if his only child was anything to go by. Harry was always proud of Arthur for having as many decent kids as he did. One would think that with only one, the junior Malfoy would have turned out to be more than he was, but seeing the father up close gave Harry a new perspective, and sitting on the windowsill certainly gave Harry a clear view.

The evil blond man bore tidings more ominous than even a temporary removal of Hagrid; Dumbledore was being sacked as Headmaster. He was to be removed from the school. Harry was itching to see the old man pull his wand and begin hexing folks. Even if they didn't always agree, Harry could still feel the power radiating off the old Kneazle-molester. Instead Dumbledore stood calmly aside, like a sheep, and let policy be dictated by Malfoy. The sight made Harry sick. Dumbledore then rattled something off about being truly gone when none are still loyal... Harry didn't understand it at all, the old man was leaving. That seemed like a truly gone statement to him. Hagrid's comment of 'follow the spiders' was a little easier to grasp.

When the circus was over, Hagrid's hut stood dark and empty. Only Fang was left, still whining on the floor of his master's home. Harry felt a familiar burning sensation rise in his chest, anger. He really wanted to hurt the sons-of-bitches that took Hagrid, and while Harry had much less of a connection with the old Headmaster, even Harry recognised he was the best bet for keeping the school safe. Follow the spiders. That had been Hagrid's advice and Harry would, but not tonight. Too much had changed. Harry really needed Hermione's sharp mind, but as she was currently laid up in hospital, stiff as a board, Ginny would have to fill in. Sharp as she was, and biased as Harry was, even he had to admit that Hermione might have an edge in cleverness, though just a small one.

Holding his war council in the quiet common room was a little unnerving. The news that Dumbledore was gone had broken twenty minutes ago and with it brought the sudden end to all commotion. Exploding Snap was no longer exploding, several of the flightier fifth years were no longer snogging and it seemed that a dark blanket of gloom had settled over everyone.

"There will be an attack a day with Dumbledore gone," Ron concluded morosely.

"There's only one thing we can do then," Harry began. "We've got to follow the spiders, unless... oh shite. Surely Hagrid wouldn't have done that," Harry trailed off into incoherent mumblings.

"Would you please tell me what you're going on about, Paws?" Ginny fumed. She was more upset than anyone. The year had finally gotten to going right and now this. She'd be damned if she was going to give up Hogwarts without a fight.

"Aragog," was all Harry said.

"What, pray tell, is an Aragog?" Ron asked timidly. He had the nagging suspicion that spiders were involved.

"Aragog is the father of the nest of Acromantula in the forest. We don't need to follow any spider trail, I know where those boys are," Harry smiled.

"How do you know that?" Ron asked again, "And don't you dare tell me 'Trade Secrets'."

"Ron, I know that forest like the back of my paw. No one goes near the nest, those things eat anything. We'll go as soon as we can get away, agreed?"

Ginny nodded enthusiastically, but Ron blanched. "Wait, why do we need to go again, and exactly how big are these spiders again?"

"Firstly, I think that Aragog might know more than Hagrid about this whole business, and we have to find out. We need to go because, as good as I am, it would help to have another wand or two along. Those buggers are nasty. As for the second, that really depends, could be small as a dinner plate or big as a horse, maybe a little larger," Harry replied offhandedly. Ron looked ready to be sick.

"Harry, I'd do anything for you, mate. You know that, but I can't do this. Please don't ask."

Harry stared intently at his friend, and then relented. "You'll be alright. Ginny and I will go." Ron nodded sadly and stood abruptly.

"I'm sorry, mate."

"You're okay, Ron. We still killed a troll didn't we?" Ron smiled weakly before replying.

"We sure did. I'm off to bed then. Let me know when you'll be gone, I'll try and cover with Percy for you."

"I always knew you were a stand up chap, Ron. See you tomorrow," Harry replied and waved his friend off to bed. "Now, Sparkplug, let's figure out how we're going to do this."

oOo

As it turned out it was nearly two weeks later that they finally found an opening. The teachers had taken to escorting them from class to class and herding them about like sheep. For an independent Kneazle this was the ultimate insult. Harry could take care of himself and no Slytherin Monster was going to get the drop on him, but travelling about in a pack blinded his senses and made for juicier prey. That morning's Herbology class was subdued; now they had two missing from their number and finally even Ernie MacMillan seemed forced to admit that the likelihood of Harry's evil intentions were slim to none.

Finally, Harry found an opening. It hardly surprised him that Lockhart was the one to give it. Harry still couldn't understand how the man had managed to defeat so many dark creatures, he had no hunting instincts and his situational awareness was that of a drunken rabbit. Harry slipped behind a suit of armour and transformed, padding quickly towards the greenhouses where Ginny had Herbology that day.

She had lagged behind a little and with her shorter legs she fell behind even further. Harry, on two legs now, prepared to pounce. Staying low to the ground Harry sprung in the instant Professor Sprout had turned her back to reprimand two Ravenclaws for scuffling. He hit her hard and low around the waist, the forward momentum propelling them both into the nearby bushes. He clamped his hand hard over her mouth to muffle any scream that might alert someone to her temporary abduction. "Sparkplug, hush, it's me!" Harry hissed.

"Merlin, Harry! You scared the magic out of me. What are we doing in the shrubbery?" Ginny's mind was suddenly filled with romantic scenarios of Harry loudly professing his love and immediate marriage, where they would enter into a long and passionate engagement.

"I'm kidnapping you; we're going to see Aragog now." Much less romantic than she'd hoped, but he'd also seen fit to include her so that had to mean something.

"Wait, why now?"

"I want in and out of that forest before dark. Your eyes aren't accustomed to it and we've never gone as deep as we will today."

"I've gone in before though! Don't you patronize me, Harry," Ginny warned angrily.

"Ginevra," Harry began and Ginny stood stock straight at the use of her full name, "I'm not doing anything of the sort. However, anytime you've gone in the forest before has been with a full guard of our Kneazles, and even they won't go near where we're going now. I need you to follow me and be ready. Do you remember the spell we learned?"

"_Reducto_, sure. Do you think we're going to run into problems?" Ginny asked wide eyed.

"Count on it."

They both stood, and checked quickly about for authority, and seeing none they hurried off into the looming shadows of the Forbidden Forest. It wasn't a minute before they were joined by numerous other presences. "Ginny, stay here. We're being followed and I need to know why," Harry calmly stated. Stepping out of her clear line of sight, Harry assumed his true form and lamented his inability to always travel like this.

'What are you doing, Igglebum?' Harry began, but was quickly cut off from further questions by a loud mewling as six other Kneazles surrounded him in a half-circle.

'We're here to help. The question is where are you going?'

'To see the Acromantula.' A collective gasp was let out at the news.

'Why are you taking our kitten?' Igglebum asked harshly.

'She's a witch as much as your kitten and right now we need answers. There is a danger in the castle. We have to find out what it is.'

'Then you go, leave her with us. Mum won't lose a kitten so early,'

'I'll never convince her to stay, you know how stubborn she is,' Harry said wearily.

'Then we're coming,'

'No, please. How could I face your Mum if one of you were killed?'

'And how could we face her if we let her newest kitten wander around the forest without us? We're coming if she is,' Igglebum retorted.

'Your concern for me is touching, you know that right?'

'Go chase your tail; we know you can take care of yourself.'

Ginny heard some soft meows in the distance and after a few minutes Harry reappeared as though by, well, magic. "Ginny, I suppose I didn't really think this one through. Could I convince you to head back to the castle? It's going to be awfully dangerous and I don't want to face your mum if you get hurt," Harry concluded lamely.

"Harry, you dragged me out here because you might need an extra wand and that is exactly what you're going to get," she replied fiercely. Ginny hated it when people tried to baby her. It wasn't going to be as bad as he'd said anyway. They'd gone into the forest plenty of times before. Harry sighed and let his shoulders slump, seemingly defeated. As they began to walk deeper into the shadows, Ginny too became aware of numerous smaller shapes following them.

"Harry, why are the Kneazles following us? Didn't you say it was dangerous?"

"Of course I did. That's why they're coming, they have to watch out for their kitten don't they?" and he gave her a lopsided grin. She felt both reassured and infinitely more scared at the same time.

An eternity later they stopped and Harry softly whispered, "We're almost there." A minute later Ginny's world had been turned upside down, and she was silently praying they could get out alive. Surrounding them were arachnids that would have Ron wetting his pants. She nearly was and she wasn't even afraid of spiders. Looking at Harry though, he seemed more angry than anything. "Aragog!" Harry shouted. "We're friends of Hagrid's. He's in trouble." The clicking from the surrounding spiders increased. Finally the largest appeared in more than voice.

"If he's in trouble, then why has he sent you?" Aragog asked.

"They think Hagrid's been setting something loose up in the school. We need to know what it is," came Harry's steely reply.

Another round of furious clicking. "That was years ago, Hagrid raised me yes, but never did I feast upon the flesh of human at Hagrid's insistence," the spider said mournfully. Whether it was at the idea of Hagrid in trouble or the lost chance of human meat, Ginny couldn't tell.

"You never killed anyone?" Harry asked.

"Never! The girl who died met her fate in a bathroom, I never left the confines of the cupboard that Hagrid raised me in. They found me, yes, that was why they made Hagrid leave. They believed I was the one who was set loose from the Chamber."

Ginny finally found her voice. "You wouldn't happen to know what does lie there would you?"

"We do not speak of it! It is an ancient enemy of spiders, and we do not say its name. I have never told even Hagrid, though he asked me many times."

"Do you believe him?" Ginny asked quietly.

"I do. It is the same thing Hagrid told me and he wasn't lying. It all makes sense I suppose, except for why the attacks stopped after Hagrid was kicked out," Harry whispered back.

"Maybe he was just a decoy. I used to do that to Ron sometimes. I'd play a prank on Percy and make it look like Ron or the twins did it." Harry smiled, he'd been there for most of those, and her logic made a disturbing amount of sense. What didn't make any sense, though, was staying surrounded by a large number of very hungry looking arachnids that seemed rather intent on eating them. A silent hand gesture made the Kneazles move into a protective sphere around Ginny, ready to escort her out of the danger zone at a moment's notice.

"Well then, Mr. Aragog, I suppose we'll just be leaving," Harry finally said breezily.

"No, I think not," the giant spider replied.

"Get ready to run," Harry whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Then he said forcefully to the mass of encroaching eight-legged freaks, "You will if your brood wants to survive." The clicking and rustling halted for a moment.

"What do you speak of?" Aragog sounded hardly impressed.

"We're both accomplished wizards, if any of your brood wants to walk out of here alive tonight you will let us go. If not... I am happy to play the exterminator. I suppose the unicorns wouldn't mind either."

The clicking began again. They seemed hardly impressed. "Kill them, no wizarding spells will harm us all."

Ginny began to panic, the spiders were all around, there was nowhere to run. An all encompassing sphere of exoskeleton death was slowly constricting them. "_Reducto_!" Harry yelled and a red beam of light shot out of his wand.

"Harry! They're living beings. Hermione told me that curse only works on inanimate objects," Ginny screeched, but was suddenly silenced when the top of one Acromantula exploded with righteous force and caused the spider to beat a hasty retreat.

"It works on exoskeletons just fine," Harry yelled and continued blasting curses. The Kneazles for their part were doing their best to ward off some of the smaller spiders trying to make a tasty meal out of their red-furred kitten. Ginny's optimism at seeing her Reductor Curse causing similar damage to Harry's was short lived, there were just too many. She could almost feel the deadly pincers piercing her skin. 'Please, someone help us!' she thought over and over. The walls were beginning to close in. A loud mewling that grew steadily and alarmingly fainter grabbed her attention. One of her Kneazles had been grabbed. She could see his ever weakening struggles as he was rapidly cocooned in silk and disappeared into the darkness of the arachnid's den.

"HOBART! ISIS NO! HOBART!" Harry's cries rent the night as he too watched the Kneazle dragged away into a fate worse than death. "Isis, help! I'm going to get them all killed," Harry sobbed. His spell casting had sapped his energy and Ginny could tell his spirit was on the breaking point.

'No, I'm not going to let this happen,' she thought fiercely. 'They are my Kneazles, and Harry is my friend. If he can't get us out of it I will! I am a lion, a Gryffindor. I'll tear these wiggling bastards apart with my bare hands if I have to.' She crouched low, acting on instinct. The night seemed clearer, the Acromantula not so big. She could punch a hole and get them out... she had to.

"Harry!" Ginny roared. His surprised expression went unnoticed as she was charging a clump of the giant creatures. Charging them, she had to be crazy, but the rational part of her brain was quickly silenced. A cold and feral instinct had taken over and she would save her Pride. Running had never felt so effortless and again she called for all of them to follow her. A Gryffindor always leads the way. Her body slammed through the surprised mass of spiders, scattering them just enough to allow all six Kneazles to follow her. She kept running.

Moments later she realised something was wrong, six Kneazles... no humans. OH Gods! Harry, she'd left Harry. She had to go back and get him! She looked down and all her smaller furry brethren were gratefully wrapping around her large paws... paws? Oh shite...

With that last thought she blacked out.

oOo

Harry was more amazed with his human now than he had been when she nicked a Shrinking Solution from Fred to put on Dad Weasley's pants and framed Percy for it. She had saved his life. Not that it was worth saving, he thought morosely. He'd led her and six of his cousins on a harebrained scheme to talk to Acromantula as though they would have a cup of tea with him. Hobart had paid the price. Harry prayed to Isis that they'd finish him off quickly. A good Kneazle deserves a quick death.

Then she not only held her head, she transformed! She transformed into the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen, a great lioness with a dark red fur. It matched the colour of her hair perfectly; he couldn't believe she hadn't told him that she could do that! Maybe she didn't know? No, she was crafty, that was one of the trademarks of his wonderful, surprising and fantastic Human.

'She's something isn't she?' Igglebum asked.

'I'm sorry,' was all Harry could say.

'For what?' another questioned.

'Hobart… I'm sorry,'

'We'll grieve in our own time. Death is a part of this place, you know that. If not now then it would have been later. Be happy that five survived. Many times we don't.'

'I suppose living with the humans has distorted my view a little bit,' Harry replied slowly.

'Maybe, but it is nice to know you still care, cousin,' Igglebum teased gently.

'Only about him, you're still a pain,' Harry pushed back. A bright burst of magic halted any further Kneazle conversation as they all watched in wonder as the great red lioness slowly transformed back into the human kitten they'd sworn to protect.

'Well you don't see that every day,' was all anyone could think to say.

"HARRY!" the distinctive shouts of Ron came echoing off the trees. In all the excitement, Harry hadn't realised how close to the edge of the forest they'd gotten. Harry changed back and hobbled out of the forest, his body aching from exhaustion. "Bloody hell, mate, where have you been? You've been gone for nearly four hours," Ron exclaimed.

"Had to talk to some sexing big spiders, Ron. Your sister saved my tail."

"Ginny! Where is she? Oh Merlin's holy pants, Mum's going to nail my hide to a barn door if she's not."

"Ron, please cease your hand wringing, both literal and proverbial, she's okay... mostly," Harry said sternly.

"MOSTLY! Harry, being mostly okay is like being mostly alive or mostly a virgin. Kind of needs to be one way or the other," Ron exploded.

"She's just unconscious. Can you help me get her back to the castle?"

Finally Ron grinned. "That I can do, I hope you don't mind I brought your dad's cloak. Why didn't you have it in the first place? Would have made getting away and coming back much simpler."

Harry grinned sheepishly, "Didn't think about it I guess. I'm so used to getting around on my own, I didn't think about having you or Ginny too,"

"Blimey, she's heavy," Ron groaned as the two boys hoisted their female companion up. "And you're awfully thick, you know that right?"

Harry grinned again. "I suppose so. I suppose so."

Both students made their way stealthily into the castle, narrowly avoiding Filch. However, they failed to notice their Head of House. "Ahem!" Both boys' heads turned slowly to face the teacher who discovered them. 'Please not Snape'.

"May I ask what precisely you are doing?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Well… erm… Taking Ginny to the hospital?" Ron asked.

"I see, and why would you need to do that when there are very specific instructions for all students to stay in classes or dormitories unless accompanied by a staff member?" McGonagall's voice was stern.

"Oh, you know, Professor, the usual reasons: meetings with dark creatures running amok, trips into the Forbidden Forest, illegal Animagus transformations, all the normal culprits," Harry replied brightly.

McGonagall's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Mr. Potter, in light of your past escapades I am sure you think you have a very good reason for doing this. However, I am also equally inclined to dock your house points if I had any inclination it would do any good," she muttered darkly.

"Well, then, Professor, you're learning! They do say the definition of insanity is repeating the same action and expecting a different result. Glad to know you're sane like the rest of us. If you're not going to pack us all off right now, though, would you give Ron and me a hand? This girl is heavier than she looks."

Conjuring a stretcher the angry Transfiguration Professor levitated the young girl onto it and guided her to the tender ministrations of Madam Pomfrey. As both boys were about to leave their Professor once again she motioned for Harry. "One moment, if you will, Mr. Potter. I'm afraid you'll have to wait, Mr. Weasley. Despite this evening's festivities I still need to escort you back to the common room."

"Yeah, okay. I'll just say hello to Hermione, then," Ron said nervously and walked over to the Petrified form of his friend.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall began. "Madam Pomfrey tells me that Miss Weasley is suffering from acute magical exhaustion. Now I need to know what happened that could cause such a serious ailment."

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies, Professor," Harry responded with a cheeky wink.

"Cousin, I need you to tell me NOW," everything in her tone and posture said she would not be dissuaded, but Harry wasn't even entirely sure himself. He knew what he hoped had happened, but he couldn't be sure.

"Very well, cousin. I'll tell you in the confidence of family. If this goes beyond us…" Harry left any threat up to his elder Cousin's imagination. "We went to see Aragog,"

"Who is Aragog?" McGonagall asked sharply.

"The father of the Acromantula nest. Hagrid raised him when he was a student here. That is why he was expelled, of course that ponce, Tom, got him expelled. Anyway, the nest was rather reluctant to let us leave and Ginny and I did some fast spell work, but it wasn't enough. In the end she transformed into a magnificent lion. A true Gryffindor." McGonagall noted the pride in her student's voice. "She punched a hole for us out of there." Harry stopped abruptly. "She was so brave Professor, she really was. It wasn't enough though." Harry's body shook slightly for a moment as he wiped a grubby hand on his eyes. "It wasn't enough, we didn't all come back. We were supposed to; no one should have gotten hurt. My fault."

Minerva was worried; she didn't even have to admit it to herself. Typically, once students entered Hogwarts the training they received allowed them to control bursts of accidental magic. While it was still known to happen, they were usually smaller in scale. To force a fully fledged Animagus Transformation was unheard of. Harry Potter seemed to be rubbing off on all sorts of people. She hoped that his natural predilection for Transfiguration would transfer to the Weasley girl too, her marks were atrocious. The fact that Harry was certain he'd lost someone in the forest would be of greater concern, but none of the other professors had reported any of their students missing.

"Harry," McGonagall said softly. It drew his attention; she never used his first name. "Who else did you lose?"

"Hobart. He was a grey and brown Kneazle, had big tiger stripes and a white chin. He didn't come out of the forest much, didn't trust visitors, but he loved her. He always watched over the kittens and she was the newest. The Acromantula ate him." In a sudden burst of fierce determination, student met teacher's eyes. "He needs to be honoured, Professor. A statue, a plaque, something. I'll see it done, I swear."

"Very well, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, resuming her 'formal' speech once again. "We'll see what we can do, but in the meantime I believe you and Mr. Weasley need to be returning to the Gryffindor Tower."

Harry nodded solemnly and shouted, "Ron, you git, get a move on." A moment later both Ron and Harry were following a hyper-alert Professor on their way to the common room.

oOo

The next morning at breakfast Harry and Ron were both puzzling over the scrap of parchment Ron had pried from Hermione's hand. The paper seemed to have been ripped from a book on magical creatures. It contained valuable information about Basilisks. "Ron, this all fits. It's why I've been hearing it and no one else can. I'm a Parselmouth. Her note about pipes makes sense too! It's been getting around in the pipes," Harry quickly went on, "Unfortunately, none of this helps us one bit does it?"

"Harry, why on earth would you say that? We know what the monster is and we know how it's been getting around. There's too much evidence for them to ignore us," Ron replied.

"Except, you know how these humans work. Evidence must be corroborated,"

"Bloody good word mate," Ron cut in.

"You like that? Me too, I found it in one of Hermione's books. She was writing something about potions I think. Anyway, evidence must be corroborated and then the culprit has to be found. Without that it's just wild speculation from a couple of daft kids."

"Damn, and I thought we had something here. We have to wait for Ginny to get out of hospital. Without Hermione she's the next closest thing we've to a brain amongst any of us."

"Hey! I resent that," Ron retorted.

"You resemble that you mean," Neville replied, not taking his eyes off the copy of _The Daily Prophet_ he was reading.

"Oi!"

"Ron, I'm not saying that you're not bloody useful sometimes, but the girls are just better at seeing hidden things sometimes," Harry shrugged.

"I suppose. Doesn't mean I have to like it though,"

"Hell no, I wouldn't either," Harry replied. "That doesn't make it less true."

Unfortunately the looming prospect of exams, 'We're still having them?' was the startled comment from Seamus Finnegan, rushed the puzzle from nearly everyone's brain. Harry, while not preoccupied with exams, was still waiting for Ginny to be strong enough to leave the hospital.

"Just one more day Mr. Potter, to be safe. You do want her to be fully recovered?" Came the admonishment from Madam Pomfrey. Harry grumbled his assent. It wouldn't be so bad if they would at least let him in! He'd gotten so desperate he'd taken to four legs and sleeping on the end of her bed, just to make sure she was alright. The sleeping draughts made sure she never woke, even with his considerable presence.

"Finally!" Harry exclaimed, bouncing a little bit on his toes. Ginny was due out today! He could hardly contain his excitement. When she appeared he immediately engulfed her in a hug worthy of a lioness.

"Errk! Can't... Breath... Harry... AIR"

"Sorry, how're you feeling?" Harry finally said as he put her down.

"Fine now. I've never felt so tired before. Have you found anything out while I was out?" Ron quickly explained the piece of parchment that they had found in Hermione's hand, and Harry rehashed his conversations with Hagrid.

"The only thing we can't figure out is where the entrance to the Chamber is," Ron fumed. "I feel like it's been right here all along."

Ginny stopped, and stared into the distance for a moment. "Harry, Hagrid said the girl was killed in a bathroom?"

"Sure he did," Harry said, confused.

"So did Aragog. Now, what if she never left?"

"What are you... no..." Ron was gobsmacked. "Moaning Myrtle? You think Moaning Myrtle could have been the one?"

"It's entirely possible. Think about it. All the attacks happened on the second floor. If she really was killed in the bathroom that means..."

"That the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in somewhere in that bathroom!" Harry finished.

"We have to tell Professor McGonagall."

"Mate, you went on not two days ago about corroborating evidence."

"That's an awfully big word for you, Ron," Ginny snorted.

"Shut it shrimp. My point still stands, why would she believe us anyway?"

"Then why don't we take it to someone who will believe us?" Ginny replied.

"Like who?"

"Lockhart. He may be a git, but he still is some kind of dark wizard catcher. He'll help us for the promise of another book if nothing else," Harry pointed out. Neither Weasley could argue, and they silently agreed to search out the blond professor right after lunch, when the magically amplified voice of Professor McGonagall resonated throughout the castle.

"ALL STUDENTS RETURN TO YOUR DORMITORIES, ALL TEACHERS TO THE STAFF ROOM. IMMEDIATELY PLEASE."

All three of the wayward students looked at each other. "Oh Shite," they said in unison.

_AN: A huge thank you to each and every one who left a review and another to all of you who have stuck with this story despite the slowdown in posting rates. I hope this chapter makes up for it. As you can see we're sprinting towards the finish line which is galvanizing me to continue writing on Book 3. As always reviews, suggestions and comments are always welcome. One thing I do ask for all the anonymous reviewers out there: give me a way to contact you if you'd like a response to your review. I've had a few where the reader seemed to misunderstand the story and I'd like to clear that up. Finally, if anyone can please explain to me the seemingly virulent hatred of Ron… please do. I really can't understand why so many people seem to despise the boy and make him out to be a dumb troll in so many stories. (End Rant) Thanks for reading and Keep an eye out for the next one!_


	22. Downward and Forward

Ch22 Downward and Forward.

"Come on, boys, let's get a move on," Ginny said, with a glint in her eye. "If we hurry we can find out what all this is about."

"Another attack, it has to be," came Ron's assessment.

All three hurried to the staff room and carefully peered inside. No one was there yet, but the sight of a large wardrobe in the corner provided a sufficient hiding place. "It's too small for all three of us!" Ron moaned. "Ginny, you'll have to wait outside."

"Why me?" Ginny retorted.

"Shhh! I can hear someone coming. Shut the doors, I'll be fine," Harry told them. As soon as the doors shut Harry sprouted fur and leapt to the top of the wardrobe, hoping no one would spot him. He was in luck.

"What's happened Minerva?" Professor Flitwick asked.

"The Chamber of Secrets has claimed at least one life," McGonagall replied.

"How can we be sure?" Professor Vector interjected.

"The writing on the wall and they were two of my students," McGonagall said quickly.

"Who were they? What did it say?" The chorus of voices came tumbling out.

"It was written just below the other message and said 'Two bodies, one soul will rot in the lair of the Heir for eternity.'"

"Minerva, you look shaken. Who was it? Do we know for sure?" Professor Vector asked anxiously.

"Fred and George Weasley," she replied solemnly. The accompanying gasps muffled and the strangled sob that came from the wardrobe went unremarked.

"Hello everyone. What have I missed? I seem to have fallen asleep." A cheery Gilderoy Lockhart greeted the solemn crowd.

"Ah, Professor," Snape began. Harry watched as a normally cool and collected Lockhart was reduced to a near quivering mass and left shortly thereafter to begin his preparations to hunt for the monster. The teachers dispersed a few minutes later.

After regaining his bipedal mobility, Harry opened the wardrobe door to see two very frustrated and scared-looking Weasleys.

"Blimey, Fred and George? How'd they manage to get caught?" Ron asked incredulously. "I always thought they were too cagy for something like that.

"I don't know Ron, but we've got to get to Myrtle's loo, now," Harry replied authoritatively.

"What about Lockhart, or the other teachers?" Ginny balked.

"No time, we know where they are and I don't think we have time to try and explain. I doubt they'd believe us anyway. Are you coming or not?" Both Weasleys nodded and had to sprint to match pace with their leader.

They arrived in the loo a few seconds after Harry. He was already trying to interrogate a rather reluctant spirit into giving up the location of the wayward Weasleys.

"Myrtle, I swear to Isis above if you don't tell me where they are…"

"You'll what? Boys like you spent all their time picking on me and now when you need something you'll not have it! Ha, ha, ha," she laughed mirthlessly. Ginny groaned internally. They needed to be diplomatic with the temperamental spirit. She had the key to her brothers. Unfortunately, Harry was anything but diplomatic.

"Myrtle please, my brothers are in there. Can't you possibly tell us where they've gone?" Ginny pleaded, turning her best puppy eyes on the ghost.

"No Missie, I shan't. You've not wanted a thing to do with me before this year and all of a sudden now you need something? And don't think I don't see what you're trying to do,"

"Oh, and what is that?" Ginny asked innocently.

"Well, I've known girls like you all my death. Sweet as candy one moment and as soon as they're done…" Myrtle was cut off viciously.

"Look, ghost girl," Harry growled. "I can't make you do anything. I won't ask you to find it in your non-existent heart to help these poor sods who've been taken by the Heir of Slytherin, but I will ask you to work in your own self-interest." Myrtle looked vaguely intrigued.

"And how might you be willing to help? It isn't like you can do anything," she sniffed.

"Oh, there you are wrong Miss Myrtle, very wrong. You see, I've taken out a very large insurance policy on both Misters Fred and George Weasley and should they die I would come into a very large sum of money. Say fifteen hundred Galleons. If you don't help us I will spend all of it bribing Peeves with some of Zonko's finest merchandise to personally turn your death into hell. I've already spoken with him and he seemed quite keen on the idea. In fact I daresay he is rather hoping Misters Fred and George do not indeed survive." Myrtle paled, which gave her a rather more opaque look than normal.

"You w…wouldn't," she stammered.

"Wouldn't I? As you've said, you've met boys like me. Would any of them have any hard feelings about doing so?"

"Fine you wretched boy! I saw them come in, two of them. They went to that sink over there and spoke some funny words. It sounded a lot like hissing and then a hole just opened in the floor. That's all I know!" she shrieked horrendously and dove straight down a toilet.

Harry looked smug and Ron looked shocked. "Did you really take out an insurance policy on my brothers?"

"Hardly the time, Ron!" Ginny stamped her feet. She wanted to know too, but trying to rescue Fred and George seemed to be a top priority.

"Ginny's right. Now, let's see if we can find this sink."

Stooping down to look at each washbasin in turn, it was finally Ron who pointed out the likely culprit. There was a creepy snake crest emblazoned on the plumbing. Just looking at it made the fur on Harry's neck stand up. "Talk to it," Ron suggested.

"What should I say?" Harry asked.

"I dunno, 'open up' or something."

"Open," Harry hissed. There was a deep rumbling and the sink gave way to a hole in the floor that seemed to lead on forever into the murky depths. Underground... Harry hated being underground. No sunshine and certainly no place to run. There wasn't anything for it. Ginny's brothers were being held captive by a snake-wielding maniac and Harry was honour-bound to save them.

"I'm going first," Ron declared and in a show of true Gryffindor courage leapt into the blackness of the tunnel. Ginny stepped forward and steeled herself to fearlessly follow her brother when Harry's arm slapped across her chest rather fiercely.

"You're not going," Harry commanded.

"Merlin's arse, I'm not going. I'm no princess, Harry. I can take care of myself and I certainly don't need you to watch out for me. Those are my brothers down there if you haven't noticed," Ginny ranted.

"I mean it, Ginny. You're not going. We may be facing the king of the serpents, a creature that can kill with its gaze alone. I'm not risking you."

"You can't stop me! Ron's going and so are you. I'm no coward," Ginny growled.

"No, you're certainly not that, but I need you here," Harry replied a little shamefaced.

"What do you mean?" Ginny looked surprised.

"There's that great long tunnel leading to who knows where. I need you to get McGonagall. Tell her... tell her Cousin Potter has found the Chamber. We'll need some rope or something to get back out, too. It isn't like we can just fly."

"You want me to fetch McGonagall? What's all this business about Cousin Potter? Harry, if this is just some elaborate hoax to keep me out of the way..." Ginny left the threat hang.

"I promise I'll tell you why Minerva and I are related if we live through this, Sparkplug. If not, just remember that your Kneazle didn't get run down by a car." Harry gave a sad smile "NOW GO!" Ginny stumbled a little at the rough shove Harry gave her. The next second he had disappeared down the hole. She tarried briefly trying to decide whether to fetch her professor or follow Harry and Ron. Her mind was made up when she reached into her robes and felt her broken wand, and a second later she was sprinting down the hallway shouting for the Transfiguration Mistress.

oOo

The cavern at the bottom of the tunnel was something out of Harry's nightmares. Tall stone columns adorned with snake carvings stretched out before them and the whole room was filled with a magical eerie green light. Walking forward made Harry cringe as bones of animals long dead crunched underfoot. To his left, Ron strode on resolutely, with determination bolstered by a lack of escape. There was only one way to go, forward.

They finally came to a large door, also proudly bearing the disquieting snake moniker of the bathroom plumbing. "I think Mr. Slytherin was a bit silly, don't you Ron? I'd think for such a famous person he'd have better sense than to put a den down here." Harry remarked.

"Harry, only you would casually remark that a Hogwarts founder was 'a bit silly'. Are you going to open the door or not?"

"Let me see..." Harry studied the door briefly and a sudden thought came to him. The hissing of Parseltongue flowed out before he realised it. "Dance for me... Dance minions, dance!"

The door remained solidly shut and Ron was fixing him with the strangest look. "Harry, I may not be the cleverest bloke who ever dove headfirst into the Chamber of Secrets, but even I could tell that wasn't what you told the sink."

"Sorry. Let me try again," Harry said sheepishly. This was serious, no time for messing about. "Open..." Harry hissed once more. With that the great door slid open and in front of them stood a scene that would be burned into both boys' memories for their lives.

George was messily sprawled out face down on the floor clutching a familiar worn book in one hand, and slightly in front of him stood a boy who looked not quite corporeal. Almost as though someone had tried to cast a very poor Disillusionment Charm and made him merely see-through. Next to them stood Fred, tall and powerful, but he looked completely devoid of emotion. His eyes were blank and his lips were drawn into a tight line with his wand held loosely in one hand. This was not the Fred Harry had come to know.

"Fred! Help George," Ron screamed as he dashed forward. Harry watched with horror as his friend went dashing heedlessly into harm's way. Couldn't he see that those weren't his brothers? There was something very wrong, and the permeating feel of evil that filled the room caused Harry to break out into a cold sweat. He knew this magic. It was the dark and evil demons that haunted him as a kitten, and the stuff of nightmares. This nagging feeling was something Harry had forgotten years ago, passing it back into his subconscious as a mere figment. It was real though... powerfully and dangerously real. Harry was used to feeling magical signatures when he was prancing about on four legs, but on two everything was so much softer. This was nothing he would have ever expected.

"Ahh... another brother then," the spectral boy said calmly.

"Yeah, and who the bloody hell are you?" Ron shouted back.

"Ah, ah, such a temper. Where is Miss Ginevra? I had so hoped for a reunion to thank her for all she's done."

"She's gone to bring the whole bloody school down on the Heir of Slytherin. Now, who the hell are you?" Ron growled. "Fred, a little help please? George needs us." Ron was slowly edging his way around to try and get to his incapacitated brother.

"Such manners. My name, since you seem so insistent, Weasley, is Tom Riddle. You wouldn't happen to have brought Harry Potter as well would you?" the boy asked mildly amused.

"Go to hell..." Ron began.

"Well, then there isn't any use for you, is there?" Riddle asked slowly, polishing the wand he seemed to be holding tightly. "Kill the spare."

Fred raised his wand and only the fact that Ron tripped on a loose stone saved his life. The Killing Curse whistled overhead, sending Ron into shock. Fred, his own brother, tried to kill him!

"_Expelliarmus_!" Harry roared, rapidly disarming the fratricidal twin. Harry jammed the newly acquired wand in his back pocket for safe keeping and rounded squarely on the Riddle boy. "Who are you? I've felt you before, I know it," Harry growled. His advances were stopped when the older boy, who was becoming rapidly more corporeal, directed a wand at Ron's prone form.

"Not another step if you please, Mr. Potter," the boy purred like a well greased motor. "I have so been looking forward to meeting you, ever since their dear sister introduced us."

"Why?" Harry shot back. He was playing for time, but he wasn't sure how much he had. George was looking rapidly worse and Harry had no idea how long Fred would remain immobile. The Gryffindor Beater was a match for Harry even without his wand and they both knew it.

"Ah, that is the question then, isn't it? You, Harry Potter, are my future and I am very curious as to how you defeated the most powerful wizard in the world."

"Molly Weasley? I never defeated her, and she's a witch." Harry retorted.

Tom cocked his head to one side and looked mildly perplexed. "No, no, no…"

"Yes she is," Harry interrupted. "Unless you know something about biology that has escaped me for twelve years, I am most confident she is a witch." Harry supposed that not all shades and spectres were as wise as Nearly-Headless Nick, or as crafty as Peeves.

"What I meant Mr. Potter is that she is not the most powerful wizard or witch," Tom continued in the same tone one used for talking to a particularly dim child.

"Oh really?" Harry cocked one eyebrow and put his free hand on his hip. "You've never seen her in a full rage before, I don't suppose. I mean she can wrangle the Twins and Ginny at the same time. I don't even think Dumbledore could do that. Besides, if she isn't, then who, in your most glorious opinion, is?" Harry snorted.

"I am, or rather I will be…"

"You're barmy, you know that right?" Harry queried.

"Really? Let me demonstrate," Tom said lightly and with a wave of his wand conjured a series of letters.

He spelled out 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' in the air. Another flick of the wand and they rearranged themselves neatly to spell 'I am Lord Voldemort'

"So you see my young acquaintance, I am and will be the greatest wizard of all. I opened the chamber when I was only a boy, and now I am back." Tom smiled smugly.

Harry stood and stared slack jawed at the sheer shock of it all. "Wait, you're the one who framed Hagrid?"

Riddle nodded fiendishly. "Who was old Armando Dippet going to believe? The head boy, or the overgrown sod who was constantly in trouble?"

"You are a clever one. I'll give you that, but you're still barmy. I spanked Voldemort when I was a kitten. Anyone who gets spanked by a two-year-old can hardly be considered the greatest wizard."

Tom seethed inwardly. "I was good enough to ensnare two of your precious Weasleys. Can you claim to have done that?"

"Oh, right. I was wondering about that. Care to explain your most devious designs or do I have to kill you and figure it out after?"

Riddle gave off a maniacal cackle, "It was easy. They were so trusting, so naive. I had made little progress with young Ginevra, but then she traded me to the boys you see here. I plied them with advice, gave them suggestions and helped them create some of their most devious jokes ever. In the process I discovered a most wondrous detail. They are twins in more than blood, their very essence is shared, their souls are not wholly their own. A piece is shared, nothing large mind you, but enough. They were so used to sharing they never noticed when I began to feed. The more they used me, and they did, the more I could control them. I spoke in their dreams and gave rise to their inner demons. After a time I didn't even need to possess them except for the most distasteful of tasks. My only problem was that in a manner they were too devious and independent. My desires had bled into their subconscious and began affecting them in ways I could only have hoped. I never imagined they'd try and kill you on their own. My basilisk was supposed to do all that for them, but they tried anyway. Shrinking robes and runaway brooms were only the tip of it all. How did you like the mandrake? I believe that was their choice of weapon. So you see, Harry, I own them and you will die here, as will they. Finally, in the end, Voldemort will be reborn. Now, I tire of this. Time for your friend to… Where did he go?"

Harry smiled slowly. Ron had managed to sneak away slowly into the gloom of the cavern while his captor had been distracted detailing his magnificent achievements. This boy was no better than a house cat, playing with its food. All too often the prey escaped that way.

"Ah never mind. Time for you all to die then," Riddle continued and then he spoke loudly to the darkness. "Come to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four. Come serve your master,"

The temperature seemed to drop several degrees as Harry could hear the echo of scales sliding along smooth rock. "RON, RUN!" Harry shouted. He had to find a way to kill the snake, but how? He couldn't use his eyes, and his other senses weren't sharp enough to hunt the king of the serpents while he was human. Looking up all he saw was the ceiling and large stalactites clinging with the tenacity that nature gave them to the cavern roof. He had no sword, and he was realistic enough to know that he needed a big spell to stop a sixty foot long snake.

The rumbling was getting more pronounced; Harry swallowed. He was going to need a really big spell. Tom, for his part, was merely smiling. Harry tensed and tried to decide on a course of action. Both Weasley twins were still in harm's way. George was face down and so unlikely to come into contact with the murderous glare, Fred though…

Fred was being tackled by a very enthusiastic Ron. The lanky read-head had obviously come to the same conclusion as Harry and decided to do something about it. Both boys went down, Fred without even a struggle and it was not a second later that the horrendous snake appeared.

A plan borne of desperation formed and Harry decided to take it, no matter the cost. He shut his eyes tightly and aimed at the rapidly approaching monster, and used the first spell that came to mind. "Reducto!" Harry cried.

The spell veered into the darkened heights of the cavern striking a very large and precariously held stalactite. The resulting explosion of rock dropped football sized stones all about the chamber. Harry could smell the breath of death from the monster, it was so close. There was no time for another shot, and it seemed a second later no need for one.

A colossal crashing of stone followed by a sickening squelch resonated throughout the confined space. Harry waited for a moment, and then another, praying it would be over quickly. When the end didn't come he cautiously opened one eye.

In front of him, mere inches away, lay the crushed might of a once fearsome basilisk. The stalactite that had dislodged from the ceiling impaled the monster's head, nearly obliterating it. The deadly eyes were reduced to iridescent yellow jelly, blood had sprayed in a circle and drenched any exposed part of Harry, and the only part of the head still recognizable were the fangs that sat precariously close to Harry's vulnerable flesh. Isis… He'd done it! Harry had killed the greatest snake of them all! Hot damn! This was quite a bit better than simply killing some old possessed teacher, but Harry could only ponder a moment on the oddity of killing two large, ostensibly evil objects in two years.

Riddle let out a blood curdling shriek. His prize had been destroyed by sheer luck of a second-year! This wouldn't stand, it couldn't stand. His concentration broke only a moment, but he missed the stirring of the incapacitated Weasley next to him.

George was fighting, in his mind anyway. He wanted control of his body back, his spirit was being siphoned away and every moment was just a little harder to hang on, the Riddle boy was just too strong. Then it pulsed, only for a moment, but George pushed with all his might against his captor and succeeded in opening his eyes.

The room swam and his mind was threatening to shut down again with the sheer strangeness of it all. One thing registered, Harry was here and alive, and had somehow managed to kill the Snake. If he could do that, he was the boy to end it all. Throwing the diary clasped firmly in his hand at the blurry outline of the only Potter, George passed out again before he could see the results.

Harry had never questioned his instinct before and now wasn't the time to start. When the book Harry had been trying to save Ginny from all year landed squarely in his lap, without thinking he drove the only available weapon he had, the basilisk fang, into the very heart of the cursed diary. Ink bubbled from it, gushing out over his legs. The scream from Riddle drew everyone's attention. Ron finally stood, releasing Fred. Harry plugged his sensitive ears and both boys watched as the evil spectre became increasingly incorporeal, before finally vanishing into air altogether.

Harry gingerly made his way out from underneath the crushed snake and walked slowly over to Ron.

"Harry, that was brilliant! Really brilliant, mate. How did you know where to aim to have the rock kill the basilisk like that?" Ron gushed.

Harry turned slightly pink, "I didn't. It was a mistake."

"Come again?" Ron said faintly.

"I was aiming for the snake," Harry replied. "Let's help your brothers, okay?"

"Bloody hell…" Fred mumbled a moment later sitting up and rubbing his head. "How did I get here?"

"Possession, I think," Harry replied brightly. "Did you know that a shade of Voldemort was possessing you?"

Fred paled. "No, I didn't think so, but he was. He's dead now, but I think it would be best if we try and return to the school, don't you think?" Fred nodded dumbly. "Ron! Help me shift your lump of a brother here," Harry called out. With both of them supporting Fred they managed to get him to the chamber entrance before they went back for George.

Finally, George managed to wake and Harry slowly explained what had transpired in the chamber. "And then George threw me the book," Harry continued, holding up the destroyed book in question.

"OW!" Ron exclaimed suddenly. The last link of a large chain had struck him squarely in the back. All four boys turned to face it. Harry's face lit up in an instant.

"It's Ginny! Come on," Harry shouted and was climbing up the chain before anyone could stop him.

Ginny was trembling. Her adrenaline was finally waning and the monumental fact that her entire family was alive was starting to sink in as one by one they crawled out of the hole in the floor. She also had the strangest feeling that she had been a ruddy big lion, but that had to be a dream didn't it?

"Loving the chain, Ginny," Ron said, pointing at the large metal links that provided a means of escape from the underground prison. "Where did you get it?"

"Filch's office. I guess all those stories about him chaining students up isn't just for show," she replied.

"Blimey, that's heavy! How'd you move it all the way here? I didn't know you knew charms to do that," Fred wondered aloud.

"Erm... that is... I..." Ginny stammered. Not quite sure how to tell her brothers what did happen.

"I think we might be expected, don't you?" Harry asked softly and without another word strode boldly from the room.

oOo

Harry made his way to the stone Gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. It was standing to one side, as though already expecting them. Motioning for the others to follow, Harry led a parade of what looked fantastical street performers and hobos straight through the Headmaster's door.

"We killed it!" Harry proclaimed loudly. "And this time, you can't be upset, Professor," Harry said firmly, locking eyes with a newly returned Dumbledore.

"BOYS!" Molly Weasley shrieked, engulfing the twins in a frantic hug. "Where were you? What happened?" Molly was frantically and rather roughly checking them both over for any damage.

"Don't worry, Mum Weasley, the blood isn't ours," Harry smiled what he considered his most charming smile. Unfortunately this merely had the effect of drawing her attention to the remainder of her children. Her thorough and rough ministrations elicited fierce protests from both Ron and Ginny.

"Merlin! Don't you children ever do that to me again! I had thought I'd lost half the family in one night!" Molly broke down in fresh tears. Whether these were from sorrow or joy, Harry couldn't tell.

"Don't worry, Mum. Harry took care of it," Ginny said softly.

"And I think we would all be very interested in how," McGonagall intoned gravely, leaving no doubt as to whether Harry had any choice in the matter at all.

So, with Ron and Ginny's help Harry spun a tale that both shocked and amazed all those present. Harry notably chose to omit any references of his Kneazle activities and as much of his trip through the Forbidden Forest as possible. He didn't think that having Mum Weasley strangle him for endangering Ginny like that would do much good for his hunting skills.

"What I don't understand is how you two," McGonagall pointed a finger at the combined mass of Fred and George, "managed to end up in the cavern in the first place."

"Voldemort did it!" Harry proclaimed loudly. Everyone in the room, save Dumbledore, gasped at the name.

"Mr. Potter, now is hardly the time..." McGonagall began but was silenced by a hand from her Headmaster.

"I was about to say the same thing, Minerva," Dumbledore said quietly. "In fact if you would care to show me the book you have grasped in your hand so very firmly, Harry." Harry neatly deposited the book in the Headmaster's outstretched hand, not bothering to wipe any of the ink or slime off.

"It was our fault, sir," one of the twins began.

"George! You'll say no such thing. I won't have my children..."

"It was Mum!" Fred shouted. "We traded Gin for that book at the beginning of the year. It talked back, a neat sort of charm right? We thought we'd copy it and maybe make some extra money selling joke parchment or something like that. Then it... it started giving us ideas. Nothing too grand at first, but the more we asked the more it gave and the ideas that we had were just plain evil..."

"If you want to expel us sir we'll understand," George concluded for his twin. The headmaster looked at them gravely.

"If what Mr. Potter tells me is true, neither of you were in fact at fault for the acts that were committed. Of course we are going to have to discuss the small fact of potential soul magic at work, but that may wait for another time," Dumbledore said gently.

"But we were at fault sir, I don't think we were being possessed, it just felt... right to do those things," Fred started.

"Until the end. Then we fought it, once we realised what was happening," George finished.

"Boys, are you telling me you wrote in a book that seemed fully conscious of its actions without any thought what so ever?" Mr. Weasley's voice was deadly calm and for the first time all day, Harry felt truly afraid. "I have given you two leeway, because I thought you were responsible. I have told all of you never to trust anything if you can't see where it keeps its brain. It isn't even as though you have the excuse of youth! You're in your fourth year for Merlin's sake. You'll be taking your OWLs next year. I think when we get home the two of you and I are going to have a very serious chat," Mr. Weasley concluded, his voice still at an even level.

"We agree, Dad," George responded quickly. "I think there are some things we have to give you in our dormitory, if you will?" Arthur nodded stiffly and looked directly at Minerva.

"Go on Arthur, the password is 'Stratus'," McGonagall nodded. Both the twins and their father stood and walked silently out of the room.

"Molly, I think you might need something for your nerves tonight. Go see Poppy, I'll send the children along as soon as we're finished," Dumbledore smiled. The Weasley matriarch smiled gratefully and she too walked slowly out of the room.

"Now, for the remaining three of you... A five hundred point total will be added to Gryffindor for your actions tonight and special services awards will be granted," Dumbledore smiled. "And one final question before you I send you on your way. Miss Weasley, your brothers said that they had traded you for the book in question, is that true?"

"Yes, sir," Ginny responded slowly. Harry began to bristle. Surely the old man wasn't going to punish her was he?

"Where did you happen to find it?"

"In my cauldron, the day we came back from Flourish and Blott's. I thought someone had forgotten it and it did look a little old. Mum wasn't going to take me back to return it," Ginny sputtered, trying to explain herself.

"You misunderstand me my dear. I don't wish to punish you, merely try and find the reason as to why one of Voldemort's old school things could have gotten into your possession. I think I may have a slightly better idea now." Dumbledore sat back in his chair and looked thoughtful. "I must ask you for one final act, my dear children. While what was said to you by Mr. Riddle, could in fact be true, the idea that Misters Fred and George do indeed share a piece of their soul must be a closely guarded secret. There is in fact no way to prove it and the potential for someone to want to manipulate your family into allowing them to study your brothers is considerable. Please, for both their sakes say nothing."

"So... you really believe that?" Ron piped up.

"I do, Mr. Weasley. However, before you have any ideas about what that means please let me explain something. I feel that this 'soul bond' is not in fact what we have been led to think of by the types of books read by middle aged house-witches. Your brothers are hardly 'destined lovers'. They are in fact much closer to the idea of conjoined twins. Do you know what that means?"

All three children nodded. "Their souls are in fact the conjoined portion of them, if my theory is correct and their actions and the way in which Mr. Riddle was able to gain control, was directly related to that fact. Now, off with all three of you. Minerva, if you could be so kind as to escort all of the wayward students to Madam Pomfrey for a thorough examination," Dumbledore smiled. A smile that was quickly replaced by a furrow of concern as his office door once again banged open, in the frame stood a seething Lucious Malfoy.

_AN: Alright all you GUK fans! Here is an update sooner than promised as a reward for waiting for the last one so patiently. Now, I have to warn you the update schedule in the near future you prolly won't like. Book 2 will be finished on the 31__st__ of July or August 1. After that there will be a hiatus of 4-6 weeks. I've already written the first two chapters of book 3, but I need to get some personal life settled and then write 2-3 more chapters before I consider moving forward. Once we get book 3 rolling I don't want to leave you with extended absences. This long break is also to accommodate my Betas who've been so awesome and I've been promising them a Holiday for some time now. Please know, TEAM UPDATE and UPDATE MAN are in no way abandoning you. I simply need some time to get another few great chapters cranked out! In the meantime please read and review and if you like this story, recommend it to your friends. A final thanks to my betas and to WSBenge whom I haven't thanked in some time for the inspiration for this story. _


	23. End of the Year

Ch. 23 End of the Year

Harry growled low in his chest. He hated all things Malfoy and on the man's coat tails followed a house-elf Harry knew all too well.

"Is there something I can help you with Lucius?" Dumbledore asked mildly.

"So you saw fit to return did you? Even after the governors had suspended you?" Malfoy senior sneered. Harry watched the older man intensely. Harry's dislike for all things Malfoy had not wavered since the fateful meeting at the bookshop. Malfoy was hiding something, that was for sure and Dobby seemed to be trying to tell him what.

As the two wizards bickered and the idea that Malfoy senior had threatened to curse other peoples' families floated to the top, Harry watched the small bug-eyed creature intently. He kept pointing at the Diary, then at Malfoy and then quickly bopping himself on the head. This sequence repeated multiple times...

"Very fortunate that the Diary was destroyed and Riddle's memories wiped from it. Without that, the Weasley twins might have taken all the blame," Dumbledore smiled sweetly.

"Yes... very fortunate," Malfoy replied stiffly.

Dobby kept pointing and knocking himself on the head, but it made no sense. What was he trying to say? Harry had no experience with house-elves, as he tried to remain indoors as little as possible, but it seemed he wasn't the only one watching.

"Mr. Malfoy, wouldn't you care to know how my brothers came into possession of such an interesting artifact?" Ginny's innocent yet deadly voice piped up from behind Harry. He turned to look at her and his temperature dropped several degrees. She was wearing the famous Weasley victory smirk. This didn't bode well for Mr. Malfoy, and Harry would have expressed sympathy if he cared at all what happened to the oversized stoat.

"How should I know how those two buffoons acquired it? By all accounts they are hardly reputable themselves," Malfoy said quickly, but he was too rigid and far too tight lipped. The man was lying.

"Oh, but I think you might have a guess, Mr. Malfoy. Now, I am sure you never intended them to have it, I don't think they were the intended recipient at all," Ginny purred.

"This is ridiculous. I hardly have to defend myself against the wild accusations of a swotty little girl," Malfoy sneered in derision.

"You never intended my brothers to have it at all; you wanted to give it to me. That day at the bookshop you slipped it into my cauldron. You wanted to implicate my father through me. You wanted to use this 'swotty little girl' to further your political plan, Mr. Malfoy. I would hate to think what possession of an artifact that used to belong to Voldemort might do to someone's reputation, wouldn't you?" Ginny gave the older man a wicked grin and stepped beside her brother, who was decidedly less calm about the situation.

Harry was decidedly and unnaturally still. His mind was furiously racing to discern the truth in the matter. Not that he thought Ginny would lie, but there is always the chance, not being a Kneazle, that she could be mistaken. Any doubts flew out of his mind when Malfoy bent precariously low and in little more than a whisper said, "Why don't you just prove it?"

The man was guilty. He had harmed Fred and George, the two boys who had given him so much advice and help in becoming human. This cowardly swine had intended to hurt Ginny, his Ginny. Harry's mind was made up. "I'LL KILL YOU!" Harry roared, as he leapt at the offending wizard. Harry managed to travel a grand total of four feet, three and one quarter inches forward and three and a half feet down. Harry's wriggling mass was trying desperately to sink angry, if at this point immaterialized, claws into the great greasy git in front of him. Unfortunately, someone had pinned him to the floor.

Lucius Malfoy watched in detached, almost amused silence as the boy tried rocketing himself in an attack of Muggle proportions. He was about to go for his wand, to defend himself against the obviously crazed youth, when one of Dumbledore's lackeys showed her good sense. The deputy Headmistress had pinned the boy to the floor and after a brief struggle whispered something in his ear that ceased the physical altercation. The Potter boy stood, bowed stiffly and said, "I apologise for my unseemly behaviour." Lucius smiled a cold unforgiving smile.

"Quite. Albus, you really should learn to control your students, one would hate to think where a rash decision would land the saviour of our world," Malfoy smirked. Then looking at McGonagall he continued, "You certainly have a way with the children. What did you say to him?" The cool demeanour never wavered, but on the inside Malfoy senior liked the feeling of embarrassing the Potter brat almost as much as his son did.

Minerva locked eyes with the former Death Eater and replied, "I said 'don't give the prick the satisfaction'." McGonagall allowed herself a little smirk in victory as she watched her opponents face flush. "Now I think it's high time to put all this excitement behind us. Weasleys, Potter, if you would be so kind as to follow me we will need to have you looked at and then on to bed I think."

"One moment, Professor. I have something for Mr. Malfoy," Ginny said quietly. The room stared expectantly at the youngest student. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled to combat Malfoy's derisive sneer as she stepped forward and removed her outer robe and handed it roughly to the blond man.

"What's this then?" Malfoy snapped, as he glared at the impudent witch two-thirds his height.

"A reminder of today Mr. Malfoy. You wanted the body of a Weasley, but that's as close as you'll ever get. Consider it a gift, Mr. Malfoy. A memento, if you will, of the resilience of good and the flaws of the corrupt. You failed, and we are going to make sure you never have the opportunity again." Ginny's eyes burned fiercely and her hair took on an iridescent quality for just a moment. Harry shivered with pride. That was HIS human and damn if she wasn't the finest pet he could have picked. He'd never been more proud than that moment.

Lucius stared in contempt at the fierce young witch and in a deliberate motion threw the robe down, ignoring the small squeak that was made. "I don't need lectures from you," he spat. "Your tongue is sharp Miss Weasley. I would hate to think of what kind of trouble that will get you into one day. Come, Dobby."

"No… Dobby is free…" The elf said in wonderment.

"What?" Mr. Malfoy shouted as he spun to look at his servant. The elf was wearing the oversized robe like a proud king and bearing a smile to match.

"Master was given a robe, master threw the robe to Dobby. Master gave Dobby clothes. Dobby is free! Dobby thanks Harry Potter and his Wheezy, the greatest wizards to ever live!" The elf squeaked.

"You bitch… you've lost me my servant! Don't think I'll forget this," Malfoy murmured dangerously.

McGonagall was about to admonish the man for his use of language and escort the Governor out when her… favourite? student spoke up. "Mr. Malfoy, I do believe you've threatened everyone quite enough for today so do us all a favour and go sex yourself," Harry finished with a rude hand gesture. "Come on mates, there might be food available." Spurred on by that observation, Ron practically dragged Ginny after the saviour of the day and on down to the Great Hall and past a speechless Dobby.

oOo

The next day Professor Sprout began harvesting the Mandrakes for the restorative that Professor Snape would undoubtedly brew. In the meantime the happy announcement was made that final exams were to be cancelled. "Hermione will be so disappointed," Ron remarked.

The Kneazles were out, the Unicorns were frolicking and several Nifflers were even invited to the impromptu gathering of forest denizens. Unfortunately, since the end of dinner the night before neither Ginny nor the twins had spoken a word to Harry, darkening the mood significantly. Finally it all became too much and the Kneazle-in-Residence decided to find out why. So he strode boldly from the forest and straight for the large mass of students enjoying the sunshine.

Harry's eyes searched in vain for a glimpse of red hair among the lazy crowd on the front lawn of the castle. Except for Ron in a heated discussion with Dean Thomas, not a shred of Weasley red was in attendance. Harry huffed with disgust and spun on his heel. Ginny especially had been tougher to corner than a phoenix in fireworks.

Halfway back to the tower Harry's acute sense of 'Oh-shite' went off. Gripping his wand tightly Harry ducked and rolled springing lightly on his heel and brandishing the magic stick menacingly at his would-be-attackers. Unfortunately, there were only two faces that Harry recognised only too well.

"Blimey, Harry. What was all that about?" Fred asked weakly.

"Oh… I just felt that someone was about to attack me. I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you," Harry replied evenly.

"Well about that…" George began.

"Yes you see…" Fred continued and then stopped. Both brothers locked eyes and let out a weary sigh.

"We're sorry, mate," they said at the same time.

"About what?"

"You know, trying to kill you, being possessed and generally making arses of ourselves. I don't think the Chasing squad will forgive us do you?" Fred looked at his brother meaningfully.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about it," Harry said lazily. "I got to kill a big snake and we're likely to win the House Cup this year. Don't do it again and we're even, okay?"

George cleared his throat forcefully, "Not quite Harry. You did save us and while we're turning over a new leaf and all,"

"Excuse me? Turning over a new leaf? I thought only Neville spent that much time in the Greenhouse," Harry interrupted.

"No you see… damn Harry, there are some wondrous gaps in your understanding. It doesn't matter, we're changing," George continued.

"Why? People liked you the way you were, minus the Dark Lord influence. I'd keep you."

"Too many bad memories, for them and us. We got into this mess because of our love of mischief and it took a couple of second years to save the day. We can't ignore that," Fred took a deep breath. "So it is in that spirit we present you with the greatest thing we've ever owned."

Harry gently accepted a piece of parchment, worn and not particularly large or useful looking. "Fred, there still is toilet paper, unless you're trying to tell me something."

Both twins looked shocked. Until one of them placed his wand on the paper and muttered "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Harry marvelled as the lines spread over the map showing everything and everyone in the castle. The scale of it all was incredible. "You made this?" Harry whispered.

"Hardly my dear boy. We filched it from Filch. Back in our first year it was."

"And you're giving it to me why?" Harry was incredulous. He'd never found a great reason for material things, but this was too amazing not to be fascinated.

"Penance," the twins replied together.

"Just don't forget to clear it. When you're finished say 'Mischief managed'."

Looking down, Harry spotted the unmoving dot of Ginny in the Gryffindor common room.

"Mischief managed," Harry said quickly. "Thanks gents!" Without another word Harry shot like a rocket into the corridor.

"That is one strange bloke, Fred," George began.

"You'll find no argument from me," Fred replied, shrugging his shoulders.

oOo

"Boo!" Harry said loudly, startling an oblivious Ginny out of her daze.

"Oh! Hi Harry. Didn't hear you come in," she said slowly, with an obvious air of distaste.

"Obviously, otherwise you wouldn't be here still." Ginny shot her friend a look of intense annoyance. "Don't deny it," he continued. "You've been avoiding my since dinner yesterday, and I want to know why."

Ginny huffed loudly. The boy was infuriating sometimes. "Fine… Since I know you won't go away till I tell you." Harry merely grinned in response. "You lied to me, Paws, and I don't appreciate it! You told me you weren't going to try and protect me and what is the first thing that you do? You send me off on some wild goose chase to keep me out of harm's way. You didn't really need me to fetch that chain,"

"How did you get that again?" Harry interrupted.

"Not important, so don't change the subject," Ginny retorted. "Anyway, you didn't need me to do that, you just wanted me out of the way while my best friend and my brother go chasing after a giant bloody snake and two of my other brothers. I could have lost half my family that night, Harry, and you didn't think I had a right to be part of it? I don't need your bloody protection!" she shouted forcefully.

Harry rocked back on his heels, licked the back of his hand, and absentmindedly ran it over his messy hair. He said nothing for a moment, until the silence became unbearable for either of them. "You're right." He finally broke.

"Excuse me?" Ginny said, shocked.

"I said you're right. I did it to protect you. After the forest I didn't want to put you in anymore danger. I was reckless then and I sure wasn't going to do it again. That chain did help though." Ginny opened her mouth to unload another two barrels on her so-called 'friend' for all the perceived slights, but she was cut off before a word was uttered. "You're wrong about one thing. You do need my protection, well maybe not need so much, but you've always had it. I've acted a bit strangely towards you, and I'm sorry for that, but it's always been my job to make sure you were alright and it is just a little difficult to admit you're growing up and might not need me so much anymore." Harry's tone was morose. He finally admitted his deepest fear (apart from a room full of rocking chairs).

"Harry? You're making no sense. We've only known each other for two years now and one of those was spent with you here and me at home. I don't understand what you're going on about." Ginny stamped her foot impatiently as an impish smile slowly spread across her friend's face.

"Really? You haven't known a Harry since you were… I dunno three maybe?"

"Well… there was the Kneazle, but I only see him during the summers now. Mum said he stopped coming 'round this year during school, and he didn't last year either. His name was Harry, but that's the only…"

Harry smirked as he watched the gears turning frantically inside his human's head. Puzzlement, fear, recognition and the acceptance of impossibility all flashed across the girl's freckled face. "You… you couldn't. Hermione told me so. I mean Professor McGonagall can, but she said it takes years of work. I've known Harry for eight years now. You'd have to have been…"

"Three, or around that. I actually changed almost a full year before I met you," Harry smirked.

"You… You… You git! You almost had me going," Ginny shouted. "I can't believe you'd do such a…" Anything else she was going to say died in her throat, because in front of her, where Harry had stood not one moment earlier, was a large, black Kneazle with a familiar white patch above one eye and the deepest green eyes she'd ever seen. "Harry?"

"Prrrt!" he replied and pushed his large head into an outstretched hand.

"You can't, it's impossible… It takes years to learn to do that. How in Merlin's name can you do that?" Ginny finally finished.

Harry felt his point had been made, and forcing the change once more left him with the ability to answer her question in full. "Accidental magic," and with that simple phrase, he launched into a brief description of the wonders of changing when you don't mean to.

Ginny was very nearly speechless, except for one painfully obvious observation. "You slept on my bed!"

"A more comfortable perch I could not have asked for, Sparkplug."

"That's why you call me Sparkplug. You heard Daddy do it."

"Well, yeah. It took me two years to figure out who Ginny was,"

"But I remember introducing myself when we met," Ginny's usual temper was beginning to build back, now that the initial shock had worn off.

"You were scratching me in that place above the tail… I wasn't really paying attention to tell the truth."

"But YOU slept on MY bed!"

"To be fair, I didn't know I was a human until Dumbledore came to get me, and when I ran starkers through your living room."

"But you slept on my bed this past summer, when you DID know," Ginny growled. Suddenly her face flushed red with a memory long forgotten. "You saw ME stakers!"

Harry shrugged noncommittally. "Sure, but there wasn't much to look at, was there?"

"YOU BASTARD!" Ginny shrieked.

"Isis, Sparkplug. Calm down. That was years ago. Look, you asked why I called Cousin McGonagall, well… Cousin. This is why. Kneazles and cats are cousins, even if we don't always like to admit it. You're my oldest and best friend, Ginny. I wanted to share this with you. I can't stand lying to you. Please understand… please?" Harry put on his best soulful kitten eyes and pouted just a little. Ginny gave a small 'harumph'.

"Fine… it is just so strange. Here I am thinking I have every right to be angry with you and what happens? You tell me that you've been my Kneazle for eight years. I did always wonder why you hadn't gotten as big as Mum said you should be."

Harry smiled in relief, the worst was over. Ginny might be irritated with him for awhile, but things would go back to the way they were… somewhat at least.

"Just don't keep trying to protect me, Harry."

Harry grinned a little. "I'll try."

"And don't think I'm letting you sleep on my bed anymore."

"Okay."

"And no more barging in whenever you feel like it. You have to let me know first."

"Fine."

"On the upside, you can get into Percy's room through the window, can't you?" Ginny grinned wickedly.

"Definitely."

"Paws, I think you and I are going places."

oOo

Harry sat nervously at dinner. Several days had passed and a variety of wondrous activities had transpired. Everyone Petrified had been cured from the stare of the Basilisk, and Hermione had nearly crushed both him and Ron while shouting 'You solved it!'. Ernie Macmillan had solemnly apologised to Harry and with some prompting, Ginny, for suspecting them as possible accomplices in the plot. Fred and George had, in a formerly uncharacteristic display, made a formal apology to the entire Gryffindor common room and private apologies to the each of the Chasers independently. It also was discovered that Lucius Malfoy was sacked as school governor, which seemed to take all the swagger out of young Draco's step.

Tonight though was different and more nerve-wracking than any other night this year. The end of term feast with the awarding of the cup would happen, and unless Harry's math skills had drastically atrophied, then Gryffindor was all set to win the cup handily by two hundred and thirty seven points. Harry stared fixedly at the Headmaster as he rose from his chair.

"Ah, another year come and gone and for once the excitement was not merely confined to your studies. I dearly hope that you have all learned something and that your time here has produced the results you desired. Now, we have one announcement before the House Cup is presented and we tuck in to yet another wonderful feast. Professor Gilderoy Lockhart will be vacating the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts to once resume travelling and ostensibly his battling of the dark foes of Wizard kind. I understand that this may be of concern to some of you. However I would assure all of you that a suitable replacement will be found." Dumbledore smiled slightly.

"Do you think they'll hire a rock next?" Ron asked. "Be an improvement." He was quickly hushed by Hermione. Harry smiled. It was good to know that being turned to stone temporarily did nothing to dampen the witch's personality.

"Now the house standings," Dumbledore began. Just like last year, there were no surprises. Hufflepuff once again finished last, Ravenclaw a close third, and Gryffindor beating Slytherin by the figured amount. The Gryffindors were ecstatic as Professor McGonagall presented them with the House Cup.

Harry held his breath as it was brought forward. He steeled himself against the powerful magic surely contained within. What kind of amazing reward would be brought forth? A lifetime supply of treats? A lifetime supply of owls? No homework for the next year? No exams? Another ride in large Ravenclaw bosoms? Only time would tell. The noise was deafening from all the cheering and Harry finally made his way with Ron to the Cup.

Harry touched it. The metal was cold… just cold. The cup seemed heavy, but nothing spectacular. Simply a solid gold, precious gem-encrusted drinking vessel. No free bosom ride tickets were awarded nor infinite supply of Kneazle treats. What the sexing hell was the point?

Harry let out a loud low growl. He'd been fooled in a fabulously ferocious fashion. He'd been good. He'd avoided beating Malfoy, as the git so rightly deserved. He'd avoided (mostly) getting into verbal spars with the greasy Potions Professor, and most disturbing of all he'd kept his clothes on (again mostly). Countless opportunities for fun and merriment were passed upon because he promised to help Hermione win this… this… useless paperweight. Harry made a solemn vow to himself in that moment. Never again would gold and rubies stand between him and smiting evil that needs to be smote, righting wrongs that need to be righted and shedding clothes that need to be shed.

A few minutes later Harry had slipped away from the crowded hall, stripped naked and was shouting inappropriate, though creative Quidditch chants through the now deserted grounds.

The final days of term were spent in a glory of sunshine, magic and mouse hunting. Ginny, now cleared of suspicion and having barely passed all her classes was once again in top form. Her part in the rescue of her brothers was even winning her a few friends among her peers. Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He hoped that the new-found success outside of her family would improve next school year, but at the same time she wouldn't be just 'his human' anymore. It felt like the death of an era.

The train ride home was spent enjoying the last hours of free magic use. Exploding Snap was played and Harry practiced dodging Ginny's Disarming spells. He was getting exceptionally good at it. Too soon the train ride was over and they were disembarking for the humdrum of real life once again.

"You'll have to come by this summer, mate." Ron said as they were heading towards the car park.

"I'll certainly try, but I can't be so sure how much I'll be allowed over," Harry replied.

"Oh?" Ron looked confused.

"With all the problems that seem to follow, I don't know if your mother will want me hanging about. It could be a regular cat-astrophe."

Ginny's snorting laughter was met with a stern lecture from Molly about proper decorum for a lady as they loaded all the trunks into the Weasleys' new and not-so-magical car.

_AN: Haha! I know I promised you this a little later, but I didn't think anyone would mind a day or two early.__(This is for you Eriru-Chan) Finally, we've reached the end of year two. Now, before anyone makes a comment about this story following canon too closely… hold on and wait my luckies and see what year three brings us. There will definitely be a big break between year two and three as previously explained. I love writing and I am not abandoning this, but I like to have chapters fleshed out ahead of time to try and locate plot holes before posting. There is nothing I hate more than having to go back and revise a chapter because a plot hole popped up. To me that is poor writing on my part and unfair to you. I want to personally thank all the reviewers here that have taken the time to leave me little notes. Another thanks to anonymous reviews because I can't respond. _

_At the end of year three… several options for future stories._

_1: GUK sequel. I know this is what most of you are clamoring for, but I won't start writing this until I'm sure the quality is there._

_2: Rangers Apprentice: I've wanted to do this one for some time. Plot: A Scotti tribe more sympathetic to Arulen are able to see the King and beg his indulgence. When Princess Cassandra intervenes without thinking, she receives… new body guards. A tale of intrigue, adventure and dispelling old prejudices._

_3: Harry Potter: Were-Harry pseudo crossover with World of Darkness, Werewolf!. Not totally sure on the overall plot on this, but essentially we'd be looking at books 4-7 ish with a very different Harry. No more Privet Drive for this boy!_

_Let me know what you think and what you're looking for. PM me if you have a long rant or something please!_


	24. Teach Me

Ch 24. Teach me

The first day of summer arrived in all its splendid glory. Ginny stretched an yawned, revelling in the lack of routine. She opened her eyes slowly, and was met with two reflecting orbs of unmistakable deep green and felt the deep rumble of a purr. "Aieeeee!" she screamed and sitting bolt upright in her bed she dislodged the four-legged-Harry rather rudely.

Ginny's heart rate and adrenaline surge blocked the sound of multiple Weasleys thundering up the stairs to her room. "Ginny! Are you alright, love?" Molly asked frantically. Arthur was gently shushing his daughter while Ron finished chewing a roll from breakfast and the twins both studiously checked the room for signs of anything unusual.

"What happened, Sparkplug?" Arthur asked gently. Ginny's body went rigid.

"Nothing, Daddy. Harry just surprised me, that's all."

"Are you sure, dear?" Molly replied, miserably failing to conceal the concern for her daughter in her voice.

"Yes, Mum I'm sure. Now would you all leave please, I'd liked to get changed." The family quickly left and Ginny rounded on her morning interloper.

Harry was on her bed giving himself a bath. Ginny's nose wrinkled in disgust. Ginny drew herself up to her full height and channelled her mother with an uncanny accuracy. "Would you stop that? What on earth were you thinking this morning? I can't believe you'd come in my room without asking. Of all the immature, ridiculous stunts, you had to choose that one and on the very first day of summer no less. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Prrrttt… Merowowrow!" Harry responded as he jumped from the bed and began doing figure eights around his human's legs.

"Merlin, Harry. You're not a Kneazle! You're a human, would you please talk to me?" Ginny demanded fiercely. Quick as a flash a perturbed Harry was sitting cross-legged on the girl's bed, scowling intently.

"Ginny, I know this is all a bit sudden, but I've always been a Kneazle, your Kneazle to be exact. I can't just change overnight," Harry ground out.

"It's all just so weird though," Ginny whined. "I mean I understand Kneazles and I understand you, but I don't really understand them together. Why can't you just be a normal boy?"

Harry growled deep in his throat. Today was supposed to be a happy day, their first day of uncontained freedom and instead he was being badgered with asinine questions about his lineage. "Would a normal boy have paid you any attention? I wrote to you despite Ron, and stayed with you at the expense of other friends. I did that because you are _my_ human, could you say such a thing about a normal boy? Look, if it helps, I'm not really human."

"You're not?" Ginny asked confused

"Nope, I'm a transfigured Kneazle. I just can talk to you now," Harry smiled serenely.

"Well… That helps, I suppose. It still is kind of weird."

"Any stranger than not knowing why I jump out windows and talk to Unicorns?"

"No, not really." Ginny's puzzled expression began to break. "Oh, Harry, this is just going to take some getting used to, I suppose. Until I do though, no more sleeping on my bed or coming in when I'm in my knickers, got it?"

Taken aback at her insistence Harry immediately agreed. With their new agreement in place the friends set out for a new day of adventure and fun.

oOo

"How did you do it?" Ginny asked. Harry stopped abruptly at the sudden question. They had recently 'traded' a silver sickle for a watermelon at the local fruit stand. Harry found the strange fruit delightfully fascinating, but unfortunately the woman selling them wouldn't accept the standard currency of wizards and so the two adolescents had taken to 'trading' Harry's money for various rare delicacies that they fancied. They simply traded without the consent of those they were trading with.

"Well, I snuck in the back door. She usually leaves it unlocked on Saturdays, and then," Harry was abruptly cut off.

"No, I mean how did you make the change? You weren't born a Kneazle, I know that much. Daddy says that you just disappeared one day. I suppose that was when you changed. You're a natural Animagus, Harry, and I want to know how."

Harry took a deep breath and began explaining his earliest memories all the way through the change outside the Weasley's door and his subsequent practice sessions after that. "Sebastian said he thought it was something like muscle memory," Harry finished lamely.

"Teach me," Ginny demanded suddenly.

"What?" Harry sat back, rather startled.

"I mean, if you think I can do it," she responded, blushing a brilliant shade of red.

"Sparkplug, I know you can do it. You've done it twice before, if my guess is anything to go by, but I can't really teach you. It has to be something you just kind of discover, I think."

Ginny scowled deeply at her friend. "What in the bloody hell do you mean I've done it before? If I'd done it before, I wouldn't be asking you to teach me." She fumed.

Harry smiled amusedly at her. "You really don't remember do you?"

"Remember what?"

"Ginny, how did we get out of the forest?"

"Well, you saved… I… I don't know," she admitted haltingly.

"You transformed into the most magnificent lioness I've ever seen. Your fur was red as the setting sun and your claws were ever so effective." Harry smiled dreamily at the recollection.

"I what?" Ginny asked, stunned.

"A lioness, you transformed, and unless I am mistaken, and Kneazles rarely are, you also transformed when you brought us the chain to remove us bodily from the Chamber of Nasty Reptiles."

Ginny stood, speechless and stunned. Her mouth opened and closed in a mechanical fashion, but no sound came out. "I did that? I can't remember any of it," she finally gasped.

"Doesn't surprise me," Harry continued. "It came as a natural reaction. Accidental magic is what I think. Now, what are you going to do about it?" Harry grinned mischievously.

Finally gathering her wits, Ginny grinned back. "I think it's time we practice, don't you, Paws?"

Three days later saw only minimal improvement. "Why isn't this working?" Ginny yelled.

Harry shrugged and took another bite of the mouse he was eating. Ginny merely glared at him. "You make it look so easy. What if I can't do it?"

Again on two legs Harry discarded his half eaten mouse and stood. "You can do it if you want to, Sparkplug."

"Ohhh…. Why you…"

"Focus, Ginny." Ginny sat down once again and concentrated on the task at hand. Harry on the other paw, decided to replace his lost treat. Sauntering out on his own, and leaving his Human to her own devices seemed more productive than watching her growing frustration. He quickly spotted a juicy vole that had emerged from its underground hiding spot. Harry zeroed in.

Quietly and swiftly he moved in for the kill. "Aieeee! Harry!" The sudden scream shook all thoughts of food from his mind as the black Kneazle raced as fast as his four legs would carry him to defend the life and honour of his Ginny.

When he arrived ten seconds later he was greeted by a nearly comical sight. In the clearing sat Ginny staring wide eyed and horrified at her right hand… or more precisely her right paw. She had managed to change her right hand into that of a magnificent lion paw, complete with red fur and all. Harry transformed and sat wide-eyed, staring at the paw as though it were a newly discovered law of physics.

"What-do-I-do?" Ginny rushed out.

"Slow down, Sparkplug, and concentrate. Think about the feeling of the change and envision your hand as it was."

"I'm trying." Ginny groaned. It had been nearly half an hour and there had been no change to her furry appendage.

"Try harder," Harry growled.

"I am!" She screamed in return. "Dammit, Harry, you've gone and gotten me stuck like this! I'll have to go to St. Mungo's now. Mum will be furious, and I'll be the laughingstock of the whole town once this gets out,"

SMACK!

The resounding crack of flesh on flesh contact reverberated through the woods as Harry drew back a stinging hand. "You're hysterical and that isn't going to do anyone any good. Now calm the sex down."

"You… you hit me…" Ginny stammered. "You inconceivable bastard, you hit me. I'll kill you!" With a roar and a leap, Harry found himself no longer facing a partially transformed girl, but a very angry lioness in all her red glory.

Transforming himself, Harry found his small form was both a blessing and a curse. Ginny, for all her bluster, wasn't used to walking about on four legs and consequently was clumsy and awkward. Harry couldn't very well take her down, so he used his greater agility to play a very deadly game of tag for what felt like the better part of an hour. Finally the Ginny-lion collapsed, panting.

"Are you ready to behave now?" Harry asked. Ginny merely glared at him. "You have to focus. The anger can act as a catalyst, but you need to do this on your own. Now focus on being human again."

Ginny growled and thrashed her tail. "Suit yourself, it took me days to get back and forth, but I'm sure your mum will understand. Don't you agree?" Harry replied, casually picking dirt from under his fingernails.

Ten seconds later a moaning Ginny lay crumpled on the grass, gasping for air like a fish out of water. "Fear and anger are two powerful motivators, Sparkplug, but we have to get that change on your own now that we know you can do it."

"I wasn't scared," Ginny gasped.

"Of course you were, your mum scares the shite out of me too," Harry grinned.

oOo

"Damn, damn, damn, damn!" Ginny yelled as she stomped around Harry's room. Harry had found it was best to let his human simply get any expletives out of her system and then ask her what the problem was, otherwise she made less sense than a Niffler on pixie dust.

"Finished?" Harry asked mildly.

"DAMN!" Ginny shouted, and then nodded as she exhaled deeply.

"Now, come tell Uncle Paws what the problem is," Harry grimaced as Ginny punched his arm.

"Daddy won the grand prize drawing in the _Daily Prophet._ It's seven hundred Galleons."

"And this is bad?" Harry queried.

"Yes!" Ginny shouted emphatically.

"And why, may I ask, is this bad?"

"Because they've decided to take all of us to visit Bill in Egypt," Ginny sighed dramatically.

"But you love Bill," Harry pointed out.

"Well, yes and I'm excited to see him, but it's for a whole month! I'm sure Mum and Daddy wouldn't allow you to just tag along. How am I going to practice my transformation? I've almost got it now, I can feel it."

Harry puzzled for a moment over what she just said, when one thing popped out and lodged in his brain. They'd be gone a whole month. "DAMN!" he shouted.

"See what I mean?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, I do. There's got to be a way around it. When do you leave?" Harry rushed out.

"Next week, I won't even get to be around for your birthday," Ginny pouted.

"Never mind, I'll think of something. I'm going to talk to Sebastian, you keep practicing. We'll work this out somehow." With that Harry was off like a shot and through the woods back to his house.

Sebastian was having a very pleasant dream. Mary was cooking breakfast in a state of wonderful undress and she just came over to kiss him. As she leaned down she whispered the most wonderful words he'd ever heard. "MEROW!"

Startling awake, the old man threw an all-black Kneazle off his chest and vaguely wondered how such a heavy animal could have gotten there in the first place without his noticing. "Harry, you really need to stop. You're too heavy to be doing that, and if you want to wake me up try it like a normal person. You have that distinct advantage over your siblings."

Seconds later Harry was sitting cross-legged on the floor. "That's better. Now what did you need?" Sebastian asked.

"Advice."

"What kind?" Sebastian asked a little confused, Harry rarely came to him for anything other than to steal treats for the Kneazles.

"Human."

"Obviously. What I meant was, what do you need advice about?" the old man shot back, trying not to let his irritation show.

"The Weasleys are going to Egypt. How do I stop them?" Harry growled.

Sebastian leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment, "Firstly, what is this all about? Is this about your little red head over there? Your main squeeze, best girl, honey bear, the sugar in your tea, the whisky in your coffee?" Sebastian's ramblings met with a blank stare. "Your mate, m'boy the owner of the uterus that will one day push your kittens from it. Is that what this is all about?"

"She's not my mate, old man. She's my human and I'm sworn to protect her. Besides she couldn't be my mate. That'd be bestiality."

Sebastian threw back his head and laughed. "One day, Harry, you'll wake up and see things my way. Until then, I will take the red in your cheeks as a yes. So why do you want to stop them going? It seems like a fine opportunity for them to travel, and she will get to see her brothers. No girl wants an over protective boyfri… excuse me, friend hanging about ruining their fun."

"Well… she's upset about it too. I mean this year's been really hard and we were hoping for a summer of romping and play. Not that I don't love Mum and Father, but I was hoping to see her for more than a few weeks all told," Harry sighed at the seemingly hopeless situation.

Sebastian stroked his chin and tried to hide the smirk on his face. He had an idea, a dangerous wicked idea, but it would work if things had gone how he suspected. "Does she know?"

"What?" Harry asked, taken aback.

"Your little sweet cheeks, does she know about your furry condition?"

"I told her." Harry stuck his chin out forcefully as if daring the old man to challenge that decision.

"I thought so, and seeing as she could always recognise you from half a mile off, there won't be a problem with that…"

"A problem with what?"

"Harry, they're going to Egypt. There's no stopping Molly when she gets her mind made up, and I don't think it would be safe to send Harry Potter on an overseas trip right now."

Harry interrupted forcefully, "Then what the sodding hell am I doing talking to you? I thought you were supposed to help fix this!"

Sebastian glared at his young charge. Was he ever that young and stupid? Likely, but he couldn't remember when. "And so I will, be patient. You know the old saying, patience…"

"ensures a clean kill, I know." Harry finished.

"I was going to say 'is a virtue' but I suppose yours is more applicable at the moment. Now, where was I? Ah yes, Molly and her kin will go regardless of what you want. There's no stopping them and really you shouldn't try. I've always wanted to see Egypt and now here's your chance."

"But I thought you said I couldn't go!" Harry was thoroughly confused now.

"I said Harry Potter couldn't go. Never said a word about Harry the Kneazle and I know for a fact the Post Office will ship pets anywhere in the world for only a two Galleon fee."

The beginnings of a smile began to form on Harry's face. The old man could be downright devious if he wanted to be. "Only condition is that you can't tell Ginny. It isn't like I don't trust her, but she can't tell if she doesn't know, and besides think about what a nice surprise it will be," Sebastian concluded.

"How will we know where to send me?" Harry asked, worried. He didn't want to get lost thousands of miles from home in a place where they might very well eat unclaimed Kneazles.

"I'll get the address from Arthur tonight, he'll not be suspicious." Harry's smile was now firmly planted on his face. This was going to be the best summer ever.

"You really shouldn't be helping him, you know," Arabella commented from the doorway of the kitchen.

"I know, but the boy is head over heels for the girl. I can't resist young love," Sebastian smirked. Arabella smacked him with the towel she'd been drying the dishes with.

"Get on with you. That boy doesn't even have a clue what love is yet. With as much as he still takes after those Kneazles I think we'll know when he starts to fancy a girl."

"Oh? And what pray tell do you think the signs are, if they aren't a starry-eyed look and fanatical dedication, not to mention the fact that he spends three quarters of his time with that girl, no matter if it's on two legs or four. He told her his secret, Bells. What more proof do you need?"

Arabella merely sighed, "Brother, you have so much to learn about young love. I suppose you have to be a woman to understand such things."

"I hate it when you get all superior on me, Bells," Sebastian pouted.

"The boy is a Kneazle through and through, you know that as well as I. Sometimes Kneazles take a human, for a pet I suppose. That's how they see it anyway. Ginny is that boy's human. He'll do anything to make her happy and safe. There's nothing romantic about it. Now, if he starts giving her dead rabbits and singing bad songs under her window, we'll know."

"Rabbits and bad songs, what on earth are you talking about?"

"You never did study the Kneazles like father said you should. Kneazles courtship rites are a display of prowess. The male will present the female with gifts to prove his worth as a hunter and then vocalize to claim his new bride."

Sebastian laughed out loud. He'd pay money to see the girl's face if that happened. While his niece was by no means a typical shallow-headed teen, he'd bet money she still craved the romance that seemed to be bred into the girls of the isles these days. "Well, as long as he doesn't grab her by the scruff and start the old horizontal tango, I think we'll be alright."

Arabella gave him a very serious look. "In a year or two, oh brother of mine, that is exactly what we will need to watch out for, and when the time comes I leave it to you to explain the finer points of human courtship."

"Why me!" Sebastian sputtered.

"I figure if you're a father enough to help him scheme you're good enough to help him figure out the rest. Remember that the next time you want to help him escape to a foreign country to gallivant with his, how did you put it, 'little sweet cheeks'. You and your Americanisms, I swear."

Sebastian hung his head in guilty shame with only a trace of a smile still remaining. "You heard all that?"

"Every word, dearest brother. Now, don't you have a nephew-in-law to interrogate?" Smiling slyly Arabella finished drying her hands on the towel and sauntered back into the kitchen as her brother beat a hasty retreat to their closest family's house.

It seemed to Arabella that her brother never would learn why she was the second most successful intelligence agent the Order had.

_AN: Wilkommen zuruck! Welcome back loyal listeners. Back from his fortress of solitude is UPDATE MAN leading TEAM UPDATE forever in the pursuit of truth, justice and a good shag. Thank you to all who have reviewed and given feedback on what story should come next. I must warn you however, my schedule is changing frequently and so updates may be a bit sporadic. We will start with every two weeks and see how it goes from there. Thank you for your patience and I hope to have GUK finished before the end of the year. I think, if possible and due to popular demand, a GUK sequel will be next. The name is under wraps for now but I'll take suggestions. Perhaps there is a better one that I'd not thought of yet._


	25. Sand and Sun

Ch 25 Sand and Sun

"Come on, Ginny," Molly Weasley huffed. "If we don't hurry we're going to miss the port keys, and I know you've been looking forward to this chance to see the Pyramids."

Ginny for her part, merely rolled her eyes. She had not in fact been looking forward to this trip in the slightest. Apart from the chance to see her eldest brother, this was all a phenomenal waste of time. Still she hurried her short legs along so as to avoid any more unpleasant chatter from her mother.

Ginny arrived just behind her brothers in time to hear her father say, "Now gather round Weasleys, and we'll all grab the Portkey on three. One… Two… Three!" Ginny felt a sudden tug behind her naval and when she felt well enough to look around all she saw was the heat waves of the evening radiating from the rapidly cooling desert wasteland.

"Ughhh.. why are we here again?" Ginny moaned.

"To visit your brother, now please drop the attitude," Molly replied shortly.

As they trudged up to the hotel Ginny could be heard steadily mumbling curses against everything within view and quite a few hidden items as well. "What crawled up her bum and died?" Ron asked George, earning him a highly reproachful glare from Percy.

"I suppose it's because the boy wonder didn't show his face for the last couple days," Fred replied softly.

"Don't understand that. I mean he's my best mate and you don't see me being snarky," Ron shot back. Any further conversation was cut off by a patented glare-of-doom from the youngest Weasley. Ron gulped and realised that it was in his best interest to play nicely with his only sister. It was going to be a long trip if this kept up.

Ginny stared idly at the interior of the hotel lobby. Even with seven hundred Galleons their parents couldn't afford anything decent for all seven of them. The interior was dingy and yellowing and judging by the slow rate at which her father was speaking, the clerk behind the counter had less than a decent grasp of the English language. Her daddy always thought that if you spoke more slowly the other person would understand eventually. Finally the clerk and Arthur seemed to reach an understanding of sorts, and the Weasleys were on their way to their fabulous suite of rooms. Fred, George and Ron had all been crammed into one room with her parents in another and finally she was asked to share with… Percy. It wasn't that she hated her older brother. In fact when they were younger his propensity to follow the rules had saved her on several occasions, however that propensity had grown to a full blow log that was shoved unceremoniously up his backside.

When she asked why she had to be the one to share with the pompous git of the family, "Family unity and peace," were the only answers her mother would give. Ginny secretly suspected that her Mum and Daddy were still in a state of disbelief that Fred and George had mended their ways. Despite the thorough ransacking their rooms had taken at Hogwarts and at the Burrow, both twins had come down several minutes after aforementioned ransacking holding a variety of products including stacks of order forms for something called 'Weasley Wizard Wheezes'. The row about that would long be inscribed in the annals of legend.

To their credit, Fred did point out that they had volunteered to give these up and not, in fact, kept them hidden to be used or discovered at a later date. This piece of logic had shocked Molly so much that she stopped ranting long enough to give Arthur an opening to spirit the boys out to his work shed. Ginny had asked them what they discussed when they were out there. Fred told her, and apparently all her father had wanted to know was why. Ginny was very curious too. "We've given it up, Gin. Our pranks got us into this whole mess and nearly got our family killed. Besides, there's only so far you can go being the joke of the family," with that and a resigned shrug the matter was closed.

Unfortunately, her parents mistrust still forced Ginny into close and frequent proximity of her git of a brother. Sighing resignedly she pushed open the door and saw the drab interior of the lobby had translated into the equally drab interior of the rooms. There were two beds with white linen sheets, several small bedside tables and a tiny washroom in one corner. It seemed the hotel's one furnishing was a Kneazle…

Ginny's brain froze for a moment. There was a Kneazle on her bed, curled up and asleep. His black paws resting lightly over his eyes to block out the sun did nothing to obfuscate the white patch above his eye. "Harry?" Ginny began tentatively.

"Prrrt?" A sleepy Kneazle head rose from the bed and seemed to greet her with a drowsy smile.

"Harry! It is you. How did you make it over here? I can't believe it. Is this why you didn't come see me? Oh, I wish you would have told me," Ginny gushed.

"Ginny?" Percy poked his head in nervously. "What's all the fuss about?"

"Oh, Perc, look who's here!" she squealed.

Percy's eyes grew round as saucers as he locked gazes with the smug countenance of the Harry Kneazle. The Kneazle was the devil, Percy was sure of that. Not only did he give Percy one of his most distinguishing marks, a long slash across the bridge of his nose after the one and only prank he'd helped perpetrate on his younger sister , but Percy was willing to bet money he didn't have that this was the same cat that rode comfortably between the fabled breasts of his girlfriend. Percy glared at the small animal. How a cat had more luck with women than he did, still baffled the head boy.

"Get him out of here Ginny. He isn't sleeping in here," Percy informed her authoritatively.

"Percy, where else is he supposed to go? He's miles away from home and he came all this way to visit me!" Ginny huffed.

Percy gave her a stern glare, disbelief written across his scowling features. "A Kneazle, Ginny, does not travel so far from its home to 'visit' anyone. I've taken four years of Care of Magical Creatures and I can tell you that definitively."

Ginny drew up to her full and inconsiderable height and glared back at her brother. "He stays with me, Percy, and Merlin's left ball cheek can't change that!"

"We'll just see what Mum has to say about all of that," Percy growled as he stormed from the room. His uncharacteristic fierceness shocked even Percy, himself. He thought of himself as above the fray of silly sibling squabbles. If they'd only respect their parents' wishes, life would be so much easier for everyone.

Ginny had to use every trick in her not inconsiderable arsenal to allow Harry to stay with her. Her father was quickly won over by use of her trademark 'brown eyes of immeasurable sorrow and sadness'. Her mother took the better part of half an hour to convince that this was indeed Harry from home and that obviously Uncle Sebastian must have sent him either as a prank or a present to help cheer up his favourite niece.

In the end Mum Weasley relented, "Don't let him muss up the room and tell Ron to keep Scabbers out of sight," finished the conversation for good.

Ginny watched her Kneazle-boy suspiciously and was suitably mollified when he went to the window and stared out into space long enough for her to get changed into her night things. With a final figure eight and a hearty purr to let her know he was indeed pleased to be here, Harry leapt onto the bed, Percy's bed. "Get off you silly beast! Shoo!" Percy shouted.

Harry bristled and stood as erect as his feline form would allow. He was getting bigger, he knew, because Mum had said so. This made for a far more imposing Kneazle, at least Harry thought so, and judging by the way Percy's eyes had gone rather round and glassy, so did he.

"Ginny, call your Kneazle. He should be sleeping with you."

"I'm a little young for that Percy," Ginny muttered, and then continued. "I don't own him Percy. He sleeps where he wants. If he wants your bed then that's where he'll be."

"He'll just sleep on the floor then," Percy retorted and moved to shove the full-bodied feline to the floor. He stopped just as suddenly when Harry's strong right paw rose up and hung there, like a boxer's right hook, waiting to connect.

"Just let him be, Percy. He's actually quite comfortable."

Grumbling, Percy finally acquiesced and lay down to try and get a decent sleep. The feeling of strong paws needing his stomach did nothing to help. Finally, the Kneazle seemed to quiet and all the inhabitants of the room drifted off to sleep.

oOo

The next morning the Weasley clan awoke to a shrill shriek from Ginny's room. Ginny's head rose slowly from her pillow. She'd been having a nice dream, dammit! Looking over at her brother, she saw nothing unusual enough to warrant such a tantrum.

The door flew open a moment later and the rest of Ginny's family raced in. "What's the matter, Ginny dear?" Molly asked in her best concerned mother voice.

"Don't look at me, Mum. Percy is the one who screamed." Behind her parents backs she could hear her other brothers snickering none too softly.

"Well, Percy, what's wrong?" Arthur asked, genuinely concerned. Of all his children, Percy was the most grounded and least easily put off, Arthur had always thought.

"Ginny's Kneazle won't stop staring at me. It's like he's waiting for something," Percy started lamely as the snickering crescendoed into all out guffaws. "Aww… is Perc-Perc afraid of a kitty?" Ron asked cheerily.

"You try waking up to those eyes and tell me it doesn't turn your stomach! That cat is mad," Percy defended hastily. Harry merely stood up, stretched lazily and leapt to the ground, where he proceeded to saunter over to Mum Weasley and do a fine figure eight around her legs, thus rapidly diffusing the situation. The laughter from Ginny's brothers was unstoppable now. Molly merely looked pleasantly befuddled.

"Percy, please no more hysterics. I think you just had a bad dream. Now, get along with all of you. We've a busy day today and we must be off." Molly gently shooed her family out of the room to allow the occupants their own privacy. Harry sauntered out with them, and only Percy and Ginny caught the smug, saucy look the Kneazle gave.

An hour later Harry was sitting patiently in the dust of the steps of Gringotts' Egyptian headquarters as he watched his human engage in a display of physical sibling affection. Ginny finally disentangled herself from the monstrous hug she was giving Bill, enough to allow the rest of her family to finally say hello.

Harry vaguely remembered the eldest Weasley, but he didn't look anything like that now. With his dragon hide outfit and long hair, Bill looked far more like a member of a notorious criminal enterprise rather than an upstanding curse breaker.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a light scratching on his head, which he leaned in to forcefully. "You're much calmer than last time I saw you, Harry." Harry jerked his head up to stare at the smiling visage of Charlie Weasley. Ginny had gone on about Charlie two summers ago when he got a job at the dragon preserve in Romania. As the stocky Weasley man resumed his gentle scratching, Harry could well understand why the dragons might appreciate someone with such a delicate touch.

Charlie continued to talk softly to him for a few minutes until Ginny returned and the entire group headed on for the whirlwind tour of Bill's work. "There isn't much here, really," Bill began. "Most of the time we're out in the desert on assignment. That's where the real action is." Indeed, compared to the London branch the Cairo office seemed rather dull. Only fifteen or so goblins worked here, alongside forty or so Human counterparts. The marble was no less polished though and the halls were remarkably dust free for such a sandy place. Bill informed them, when Percy asked, that this was because Goblins take pride in their surroundings no matter the location.

The day passed quickly and before everyone knew it, lunch time had transfigured itself nicely into dinner and again into the pleasant time after supper in which everyone is too full for pudding, but wants to try a little something anyway. "What do you have planned for tomorrow, Mum?" Bill asked finally.

"Oh, I thought we'd be seeing the sights. If you've other things to do, I'm sure we can manage," Molly said slowly. Her voice letting it be known that while they would manage it, it might very well break the matron's heart.

Bill for his part merely chuckled. "Oh, you mean the touristy spots where they never show you anything worth looking at? I tell you what, I'll take the whole lot on a dig tomorrow. They've just discovered one here in Cairo again and after that we can have a little behind the scenes tour," Bill smirked.

"Dear, you don't have to do that. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble with work."

"No trouble at all Mum. You lot travelled an awfully long way just to see me. The least you can get out of it is a little fun and some secret access. Really, what's the point of having an internationally known curse breaker for a son if there aren't a few perks to go along with it?"

Molly finally agreed and the family broke apart heading back to their various lodgings. "Mum, is it ok if I go outside for a bit? It's kind of stuffy in the room and Percy keeps getting annoyed with me for 'breathing too loudly' or something like that," Ginny asked timidly. Looking outside, Molly noted the sun hadn't gone completely to bed yet and after a moment's consideration relented. Even she was willing to acknowledge how fussy Percy could be when he was studying for something.

"Fine dear, but just outside and be careful. This isn't like the Burrow."

"Yes, Mum," Ginny replied and scampered down the steps, her Kneazle companion close on her heels.

"Finally! You can change back now Harry," Ginny said, once they had ducked into an alley across the street from their hotel. Harry merely shook his head.

"What do you mean? Of course you can! Come on, don't be silly," but Ginny's rant stopped short as she saw her Kneazle-boy scratching in the dirt.

'can't, promised Sebastian. Said dangerous for Harry Potter. Kneazle Harry ok.'

"You promised Uncle Sebastian?" Harry nodded. "So can we still practice my transformation?" Harry nodded.

'every night' he wrote.

Ginny grinned, "Fabulous."

oOo

Their trip abroad had grown on Ginny faster than her parents had hoped. She'd taken a liking to nearly everything the family had done, after her initial bout of pre-teen angst. From trying new foods to enthusiastically following Bill on every sightseeing adventure they'd had, with or without her mum's approval.

Ginny, too, was elated at how the summer was progressing. Her best friend and she were hanging out every day, despite his inability to communicate in the English language. She was surrounded by her family, which while often vexing was comforting, and she was seeing more interesting things than she'd ever seen in England.

There were pyramids with ancient mummies and murals painted for kings. She saw where the bodies were prepared for the afterlife and with Harry's assistance (he'd distracted her mum for a few crucial moments) she'd even managed to see several areas that the Egyptian wizards had trapped with particularly dark magic. If she'd been thinking clearly, the horrified expressions on the corpses would have made her skin crawl, but this was all just too cool!

But the best part, at least in the soon-to-be second year's mind, was that she was almost there. Harry had told her, or tried to, that he'd seen definite improvement. So much in fact that she'd even sprouted whiskers and gone around with them for the better part of the morning until her mum finally asked her what was going on. Naturally she blamed Percy.

Today though was shaping up to be slightly less spectacular than the prior ones. She'd woken up late because Harry had been out hunting and forgotten to get her up. The large rat he brought her certainly did nothing to improve her mood. Speaking of rats, Ron it seemed was nearly as scatterbrained and had forgotten to leave Scabbers in the hotel. Since the family was already considerably late to see Bill, her parents had simply agreed that Ron would have to bring the rodent along. Unfortunately, it seemed Harry's breakfast hadn't been enough as he kept eying Ron's pocket suspiciously.

"Pictures, portraits and all manner of souvenirs!" a street vendor cried. Judging from the man's assortment of wares his primary source of employment was photographing tourists.

"Oh, Arthur, we haven't had a decent family portrait in years. Do we have the money?" Molly looked beseechingly at her husband, who thought briefly and then nodded. As the family made their way towards the dingy assortment of moving pictures and cheap Egyptian ankhs a hand gently laid itself upon Arthur's shoulder. Harry's hackles went up at once. No one approached his family so familiarly without his say-so.

"Excuse me sir, do I know you?" Arthur seemed equally reluctant to have his body accosted so.

"No you don't, mate, but the name is Reginald Rumplesnout, _Daily Prophet_." The other man replied holding up his badge that clearly identified him as such. "Look, just a bit of friendly advice from a mate who's been here a bit. Don't you stop at one of those street vendors. They've urchins that'll pick you blind and I don't suppose you have the wherewithal to afford that. I know I don't," the man continued cordially.

"Rumplesnout… you're the bloke who's covering our new Cairo dig!" Bill exclaimed. "Pleased to meet you. I've read your articles. It's so rare someone from the _Prophet_ gets the facts right out here."

Rumplesnout gave a carefree smile. "It isn't like most of the blokes that get shipped out here give a damn. Mr…"

"Bill Weasley," Bill replied.

"Weasley! Merlin, you lot were looking for a picture weren't you?"

Arthur shifted uneasily, "I suppose so, why?"

"Well, after you won the Ministry drawing one of my mates was supposed to go round to your house to get a picture after you gave the Floo interview, but you'd already shoved off, and they won't print the article without a picture. If I could get a picture, it would be worth quite a bit for me and I could give you a few copies professionally done by a friend back in England," Rumplesnout rushed out.

After a brief family discussion between Arthur and Molly, conducted entirely with their eyes they agreed.

"Alright now, taller ones in the back. Madam if you could stand by your man there, miss if you could come down and stand next to your little brother,"

"Hey! I'm a year older than her," Ron squawked.

"Yes, yes, but I need you two to stand next to each other…"

Harry was vaguely paying attention, but his mind was elsewhere. There was something rotten in the state of… wherever the hell they were. Harry could sense something unnatural among them. He could smell it and feel it. He could almost taste it, but he couldn't figure out what it was, or more precisely where it was coming from. It felt like another human, but not a passer-by on the street. Where ever he went, the feeling was too. As Ginny began to move, Harry absent-mindedly kept up at her heels. He was her protector after all.

The feeling was so strong now it was suffocating and as Harry looked up he saw something he'd not seen in a long time, Scabbers. The rat had taken to avoiding Harry like a cow avoids the butcher, and Harry had seen him before, as a human. Now his Kneazle senses were going into overdrive. The way the rat sat, smelled, and squeaked were all wrong. Focusing intently, Harry realised this was the source of his discomfort. Harry felt a memory in the back of his mind move just a little bit. The feeling he was getting from the family's longtime pet was the same as he felt from McGonagall.

Thinking a bit more, Harry realised the rat was older than he was. He certainly was around when Harry met Ginny. Finally it all clicked. The rat… wasn't a rat at all. Another Animagus? It had to be, and if the small furry animal hadn't revealed himself then only nefarious plots were afoot. Besides, what kind of rabbit brained toad licker would decide to become a rat of all things. That would be like deciding to learn to transfigure yourself into a platter of lamb chops… with legs.

The picture did come out, contrary to Mum Weasley's ranting; however when developed it clearly did not show anyone's best side. Harry was caught mid-leap, snarling and pouncing on Ron's shoulder while Ginny and Molly looked mortified. A panicked Scabbers was squealing and desperately trying to evade pointy death. Fred and George were smirking gleefully and Arthur could be seen merely planting his face in the palm of his hand. Charlie was laughing uproariously and slapping Bill on the back who looked considerably worse for the contact. In fact only Percy looked normal with his usual scowl for anything that upset the natural order. All in all, it wasn't a good day for the Weasleys.

oOo

Back at the hotel, Ginny was receiving the verbal flogging of her life. Everything from 'I thought you were more responsible than that' to 'you just wait till we get home young lady' were trotted out for the occasion. Twenty minutes later a tear-stained Ginny ran to her room and flopped unceremoniously onto her bed, crying her eyes out at the total humiliation she'd just suffered. It wasn't enough that her Mum, Dad, and Percy had all given her their own form of a lecture, but even Bill seemed a little disappointed, and the worst part was it wasn't even her fault!

"Prrt?" A familiar musical meow reached Ginny's ears. She shot up, with murder in her eyes.

"You ignorant, selfish, greedy, tit-waffle! I can't believe you. You muss up the only picture we've had of the whole family and get me in trouble with Bill and then walk in, smooth as silk and expect me to just scratch you ears? I can't believe your gall," Ginny ground out. She gasped, in a second Harry had become the nearly thirteen-year-old heartthrob she'd traversed the Forbidden Forest with. The sparkly green eyes that could be so infuriating when coupled with pointy ears were far more alluring on a human frame. They stopped her rant, mid-sentence.

"I'm sorry, Ginny."

That got her hackles up again. Saying he was sorry, did he really think that would be enough? The next statement drew her attention though.

"I just can't understand why your family lives with another Animagus."

Ginny gasped, and looked rather puzzled. "What are you talking about Harry? You're the only Animagus in the house. I think we'd know if we had another."

"You didn't know you had me," Harry pointed out evenly. "And did you really say tit-waffle? What is a tit-waffle anyway?"

Ginny sputtered a bit and then regained her composure. "Don't worry about that! What do you mean there is another Animagus in our house?"

"Ron's rat, Scabbers, he's one too."

Ginny merely scoffed, "How can you be sure?"

"Look at him Ginny, I mean really look. He doesn't act like a rat, he doesn't smell like a rat and he certainly doesn't feel like a rat. Ignoring all that, how long has he been alive now?"

Ginny looked thoughtful. "Since around the time I was born I suppose. He's always been here. I can't remember anytime he wasn't here…"

"Exactly, and let me tell you rats simply don't live that long. Four maybe five years, but he doesn't look like he's aged a bit does he? He still looks like a middle aged rat."

Ginny was forced to concede the point. "So you really think he's an Animagus living with us?" Ginny asked slowly. Harry nodded. "Then what do we do?"

"As much as it pains me to do this, we have to tell your parents," Harry winced.

"And they're going to believe me?" Ginny shot back skeptically.

"No, likely not at first, but you'll have to convince them. It's either that or I can kill it and I don't think Ron's going to let me anywhere near his room anytime soon."

Ginny sat back for a moment, and thought. "Will you come with me? …as a Kneazle I mean." Harry nodded and smiled.

A moment later, the smile was gone, "Ginny," Harry shouted. "Get your parents. The rat's going to escape!" Harry furploded and raced after the opposing four-legged creature. It was fortunate, Harry thought, that he'd managed to spot the spy in the room, though he'd no idea how he'd gotten out of his cage without alerting Ron or the twins. Harry could feel the rat's human heart beating furiously. Fear and desperation coursed through the transformed human's mind. Harry's hunter senses were beginning to take over. 'Don't kill, don't kill,' he studiously chanted in his mind. They needed to discover what this trickster wanted, as he obviously wasn't looking out for the best interests of the family.

Rounding a corner, Harry could sense he had almost caught up with the treacherous rodent, when a unseen force delivered a bone-jarring thump forceful enough to drive him into the wall and knock the wind out of his massive Kneazle lungs.

Harry sat on the floor for a moment gasping and then forced himself to rise again, which was easier than he thought. Except that our hero-in-fur kept rising off the ground. In a moment he was suspended at eye height with a furious Ron. "You bastard!" Ron screamed. "Ginny, I swear to Merlin, I'm going to kill the lousy cat."

Harry for his part merely growled as Ron held him by the scruff in a most uncomfortable position. He was rewarded with a furious thump on his head. Luckily, Ginny and Mum Weasley both arrived at the same time and began yelling at the offending brother to drop the Kneazle.

"Mum, he killed Scabbers! I found blood and cat fur all over my sheets," Ron yelled.

"Mum, he's hurting Harry!" Ginny cried out. Harry was furious, not only manhandled by his best male friend, but being framed for murder and allowing the rat to escape. Father would never forgive him. A few seconds more of incessant argument finally saw Harry ungracefully pitched across the hallway of the hotel, his back legs nearly tumbling arse over whiskers and finally with the help of gravity landing rather unceremoniously on all four. Kneazle-boy snorted in his mind. Cats may always land on their feet, but no one ever mentions that it isn't painless.

Doing his best arrow from a bow impression the black-furred terror sped along the corridor, stopping every so often to sniff and check for scents. Thirty minutes later Harry returned in a foul mood, itching to dig his claws into something expensive and silky. No good, dumb Ron picking him up. If the prat hadn't obstructed his chase they'd be currently extracting answers from a rat that had lived with the Weasleys longer than he had and had never, apparently, divulged the fact that he was indeed an Animagus. Harry consoled himself with the fact that he did it at least, because he didn't know he _was_ an Animagus.

Sauntering slowly back into the Weasley-occupied section of the hotel, he narrowly avoided being squashed by the sudden emergence of his favourite human and her mother who seemed to be in the death throes of an argument.

"Ginny, I'll not have you spreading wild rumours about like this. Scabbers was an old rat, but that was no reason for your cat to eat him."

"Mum," Ginny pleaded. "Harry didn't eat him, and he only tried because he was an Animagus. I told you, Kneazles can sense things like that. Why won't you believe me?"

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. We've had Scabbers for nearly twelve years now, why would a person spend twelve years as a rat?" Molly huffed.

"Mum, how could a rat live twelve years? I can't believe this!"

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, go to your room now. We're going home tomorrow and your father has been spending this entire time trying to explain to the manager what the rumpus we've been having up here is. We'll be lucky if we aren't out on the street tonight." The Weasley Matriarch's voice was cold as ice and hard as diamond. Ginny held back tears only because of the resolve the feeling a furry body wrapping around her legs gave her. Sniffling loudly she headed back to her hotel bed and proceeded to cry it out.

Harry sat scrunched against her side, purring a loud rumbling lullaby, like Mum used to do when he was a kitten. He wondered briefly what Human Mums did for their kittens, or what his mum did for him before Isis took him to her service. Shaking the blasphemous thought out of his head he concentrated on making his Human feel better.

"Stupid Mum, wouldn't believe me. Told me to stop making things up. Told me Kneazles couldn't talk or let us know things and I certainly wasn't going to tell your secret was I? Stupid Mum, even said Daddy was going to have a talk with me for carrying on like a broken banshee. Bet Ron doesn't get a talk. Stupid Ron, stupid Mum, stupid… well I guess it's not Daddy's fault. I still wish they would believe me for one second though. Not like it matters now. You didn't catch him did you?" Harry shook his head and meowed forlornly.

Ginny quickly changed into her night gown, despite the early hour, and faked sleep until the real thing overcame her. The last thing she wanted to deal with that evening was another of pompous Percy-the-prat's lectures.

oOo

The next day little was said, though both Harry and Ginny received glares of eternal enmity from Ron and ultimate motherly disappointment from Molly. They met up with Bill once again to say fond farewells. "How long do you have then?" Bill asked quickly.

"Three hours or so," Arthur replied.

"Do you lot have time to see one more? We finished de-cursing it just a few days ago. I know you would, Gin. It's got you and your Kneazle written all over it."

They headed out to an excavation that looked fresher than the rest. Ginny wondered what was so important that Bill wanted to show him, her mind travelling over the various possibilities while the rest of her family droned on in the background and she studiously avoided Ron's angry gaze.

"This room was built as a bank of sorts," Bill was telling them. "It took us nearly three months to break just the first round of enchantments, and another six to get through the rest. The Goblins weren't too happy with the extra time spent, but the reward shut them up rather nicely," he grinned. "Now, what I'm going to show you one of the archaeology teams only discovered a few days ago. We had to check it for wards and dark magic, obviously but it is one of the damndest things I've ever seen."

Now Ginny and Harry's attention was fully concentrated with no more daydreaming. Stepping into a low roofed room in front of them stood a statue of black rock. It was a young girl, dressed in traditional Egyptian garb and holding a large staff in one hand.

"The symbol on the staff is for Ra, the ancient Egyptian sun god," Bill explained. "We're not sure what it is, but I thought you'd appreciate the subject matter, Gin."

Ginny gasped as she stared at it. The young girl had several large felines wrapped around her feet and another on her shoulder. Her hair was flowing and regal, her skin seemed to lack (at least to Ginny's artistic senses) the traditional hue of the Egyptian people. The cats seemed lifelike, almost like guardians and the girl's face was dotted with what appeared to be freckles, and while Ginny never had a fine appreciation for the arts, even she had to admit this was pretty cool.

"Kind of looks like you, Sparkplug," Arthur stated off-handedly. "In a very Egyptian sort of way. What do those funny rune things at the bottom say?" He asked his eldest son. 

"From what the egg-heads tell me in linguistics, it says 'The Isis of flesh. She who will lead them to true understanding.' The Egyptian wizards had a fascination with cats. They thought that their great defenders were the Sphinx. Practically worshiped the little buggers."

"That's not a cat, Bill. That's a Kneazle. Look how much bigger they are," Ginny remarked slowly.

"Huh? I guess they are, makes the bird on the pedestal even more like you then, doesn't it?"

Any further speculation was silenced as Molly quickly announced their Portkey time was near and that the family would need to say their final goodbyes, preferably outside of a thousand-year-old tomb. So it was with squinting eyes and fond memories that the large family did exactly that. Charlie had to leave first for Romania, and Bill said he was needed at the office, which left only the children at home plus one Kneazle in the care of their parents as the group headed to the spot that would return them to England and the Burrow.

"Everyone have a good Holiday?" Arthur asked. Everyone except Ron agreed. The youngest boy merely muttered something that sounded like 'stupid pet rat-killer', but it was lost in the void as they all grabbed the Portkey, Harry being clutched tightly in Ginny's free arm.

AN: A very Happy labor day to all my American comrades basking in the anticipation of a Monday off. I hope this is all very satisfactory and you aren't too impatient with my updates. Here is the long awaited trip to Egypt. Before anyone asks, just wait and see about the statue. The ending to that hasn't been totally resolved yet. I hope all you Yanks have a good time with the day off and to everyone else, maybe you can pretend to be American and take Monday off regardless.


	26. Aggrivation

Ch 26

"How's it coming along?" Harry asked easily. Ginny gasped in surprise. She'd been so focused on trying to get her transformation that she'd not heard her best friend come up behind her.

"Almost, I can almost get it. I just wish I could do it once without getting angry or scared," she pouted.

"Keep working on it. I wouldn't be too concerned, yet. It took me a long time too," Harry smiled kindly. "Besides, the longer it takes you the longer you can stay out of the house. Your Mum was in a snit this morning," Harry shuddered.

"I know. It was so strange. She and Daddy were fine until they started looking through the mail and back copies of the _Prophet_ and then all of a sudden Mum got all worried and Daddy had to head into work. There's something they're not telling us, Paws, and I aim to find out what it is."

"You could have gotten a copy of the paper," Harry suggested.

"No, Daddy took it with him when he left. It looked like the paper was a week old or so. I wonder what it could have been?"

Both kids pondered on this for a moment before the spark of inspiration struck Harry. "I can't believe we didn't think of it, Sebastian and Arabella would know. At the very least we could get the paper. Sebastian doesn't throw those out for months!"

Quickly agreeing on a course of action the two friends headed across the field, Harry on four legs and Ginny on two. An instant before they announced their presence, Harry held up his paw in clear warning. The argument from inside the house had finally begun wafting to outside.

"Molly, the boy has a right to know. Arthur told us what was going on as well. We're the boy's guardians and he's the closest thing I have to a son. I have to make the decision with logic, not emotion," the clear voice of Sebastian Prewett came sailing through the door.

"And I'm telling you he's too young. Uncle, I don't mean to patronize you, but you've no children of your own and I have seven. He's only thirteen for Merlin's sake. How's he going to handle something like that?" Molly's equally stern voice collided with their eardrums like a wrecking ball.

"The same way he dealt with a sixty foot long snake and an enchanted persona of Voldemort, Molly." Ginny cringed at the name. "The boy isn't a boy. He may be thirteen, but he's seen more than some Aurors I worked with. He deserves the truth and that's what he's going to get. If you want to try and shield your brood from the realities of life I won't stop you, but don't think for a minute it won't break through that protective bubble you've created over there. Dark wizards are out there and they always come knocking."

"Uncle, I never thought I'd tell you this, but Aunt Mary would be disappointed. She never let the evil out there haunt her like you do."

"I wasn't killed by dark wizards in front of her eyes, without being able to help. I couldn't stop it then, Molly, and I can't stop them trying now, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let that boy walk into school unprepared. I'd tell yours too, they'll find out soon enough. Dumbledore's gone to tell the Longbottoms. That should tell you something."

"Uncle, he's too young! You'll scare him," Molly pleaded.

"Molly, I know you have a talent for adopting the wandering strays, but trust me, this boy is anything but young."

"I think you're making a mistake, Uncle," Molly fumed.

"I know you do, but you'll have to live with it. I'm a grown adult, you know."

Harry and Ginny both flattened themselves against the wall as Molly stormed out of the house not noticing either of them in her fury.

As Ginny carefully opened the door, Harry slipped in and headed straight for Sebastian.

"Ah, I was wondering if you were out there. I do seem to have the worst timing, don't I?" Sebastian smiled as he sat in his chair. "Well, go on and change, boy. I do hate talking to you when you're only a mass of fur and claws. I can never tell if you're listening."

A moment later Harry was seated with Ginny on the couch and staring expectantly at the old man. "You know, I'm going to get a heaping helping of raging fury from your mother, don't you?" Sebastian asked Ginny.

"She stays. If it affects me, it affects her," Harry growled decisively.

"Dammit, Harry… Alright. I'm sure by now you've deduced that something is going on." Both nodded. "While you were gone, there were two break-outs of Azkaban." Sebastian paused to let the words sink in. Ginny looked puzzled, and Harry's expression remained blank.

"I thought that was supposed to be impossible," Ginny said softly.

"What is?" Harry asked. "Azkaban is just some Wizard prison, and what does that have to do with me?"

"Azkaban is the Wizarding top security prison, and it is significant because no one has ever broken out before," Sebastian patiently explained.

"Yeah, but no one ever turned into a Kneazle when they were three either," Harry replied. "Seems like nothing is impossible, just highly unlikely."

Sebastian sighed. "While your point is noted, Harry, do me a favour and shut up. Now what this has to do with you, Mr. Potter, is that of the two escapees, one of them is directly connected to you."

"How?" Ginny blurted out.

"He wants to kill you, Harry."

"Ah, I see," Harry replied evenly. "Any particular reason, or is it just because he doesn't like my charming personality and stunningly good hygiene?"

Ginny gave him a startled look. "What?" he asked defensively. "It's a reasonable question."

"No, I just realised you made a joke," Ginny shot back.

"Does happen from time to time," Harry grumbled.

"Children, would you please stop marvelling at Harry's comedic capabilities and focus?" Sebastian asked sharply. "Harry, the man in question, since you failed to ask, is named Sirius Black. He was a spy for Voldernuts and betrayed your parents to their deaths. He is, as the Americans would put it, a BAMF,"

"What does that stand for, Uncle S?" Ginny said, as she sat forward curiously.

"Very Nasty Individual, now more to the point, Harry, what are you going to do about it?" Sebastian locked eyes with our hero-in-fur.

"Kill him. It has seemed to work well for me so far," Harry said offhandedly as he forcibly refrained from taking a bath.

Sebastian merely sighed. "I was afraid of that. Now sit back and listen well, Harry. This Black isn't to be trifled with. You won your first year because of surprise and a little luck. You won a few months ago because of the same. Your courage allowed you to persevere, but you've never duelled a fully trained wizard before and I don't think starting on one trying to kill you would be wise. If you hunt him, like I know you can, you'll put the pride in danger. Kneazles don't hunt bears. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," Harry muttered. It was clear he understood the message, but not that he had to like it. "Who's the other one that slipped out? Am I allowed to hunt him?"

Sebastian chuckled darkly. "Not on your life, my boy. Rodolphus Lestrange was the other and while the Ministry is claiming they aren't related, I know better. Those two will be in the thick of it, I'm sure."

"Why were they going to tell Neville?" Ginny piped in.

Sebastian sighed and his eyes took on a dark and faraway look. Senior Aurors called it the 'Thousand Yard Stare'. Ginny felt like her Uncle was looking right through her. "He's connected in a similar way. That's all I'm saying for now. It's Longbottom's story to tell and if he doesn't want you to know, then let it be. Not everyone is fortunate enough to be adopted by parents like Harry."

"But..." Ginny began.

"Leave it be, Sparkplug. Neville has his secrets; we have ours," Harry shushed her gently.

Ginny pouted, but said nothing further.

Sebastian stood and stretched, making an exaggerated motion to examine the clock on the wall. "Merlin's underbelly, look at the time. You best go home, Ginny, before your Mum takes after me."

Both kids stood to leave, but Sebastian placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, shaking his head silently. "He'll be along in a bit, Ginevra. I won't keep your man, too long."

Ginny's face flushed scarlet at this and Harry merely growled and gave an accusatory glare at the elder Prewett. "Have a seat, Harry. I'll be back in a moment," Sebastian commanded, firmly. Harry sat with no further protest. The elder Prewett was using his 'don't sex with me' voice that Harry had come to respect. The man may not command the loyalty of the pride like Arabella did, but he did command their respect, and when he had something to say it was always worth listening to.

A few minutes later Sebastian strode back into the room holding something long and thin in his hand. Harry stopped his fidgeting to focus on the new object. Another moment of silence passed before Sebastian finally spoke.

"Harry, did you know I was an Auror once?" Harry shook his head. He had no idea. It would explain some of the eccentricities of the old man, though. "I was, and I'm also not so far gone to see where this mess with Black and Lestrange is going. The Ministry says they're unconnected because Black escaped a day after Lestrange, but I think they're in this together. A man I used to know had a saying, 'constant vigilance'. However, seeing the spell and not being able to do anything about it is almost as bad as not seeing it."

Harry puffed out his chest indignantly. "I can take care of myself."

"Harry," Sebastian sighed. "I thought we'd covered this. You've never duelled before. You've certainly never duelled one, let alone two dark wizards. I don't doubt your resourcefulness, nor your courage, merely your skill. You've never hunted prey like this."

Harry crossed his arms and looked at the floor angrily as Sebastian continued. "That's why I decided to give you an advantage they don't have." At this, Harry's head whipped up so fast he nearly had whiplash.

Sebastian chuckled. "It seems like you're getting in trouble more frequently these days and I wanted to give you something to get you out of it." As he spoke, the older man produced a knife covered in a buckskin sheath. The sheath was a light brown and adorned with intricate bead work and the protruding handle was a rough, white bone with a slight downward curve at the back end.

Harry marvelled as the old man removed metal from hide with the softest of sounds. The blade was maybe six or seven inches long and tapered at one end. The edge curved up slightly, while the back ran straight for most of the length and then dipped suddenly to a fine point at the end.

"It's a variation on the Bowie Knife," Sebastian explained. "A Yank invented it a couple hundred years ago, or so and this was made not long after that. It was a present from another Yank to me, and I want you to have it. It saved my life more than once and I'm hoping it will do the same for you. When you get up tomorrow, we'll begin practice with it. If you're half the fighter Minnie says you are, then you'll have no trouble picking this up."

"It looks different than knives we use in potions," Harry said, awestruck.

"Heh, it should. I guess it shouldn't surprise me that you've not seen goblin work before. This was made by one of the finest goblin smiths in the Americas, Tiffany."

"That doesn't sound very goblin-like," Harry snorted.

"No it doesn't, does it? I never did get around to asking them why, but it doesn't matter. This blade is goblin silver, and so won't dull or rust. Take good care of it and it will take good care of you." Sebastian smiled, fondly gazing at the blade before sliding it gently back into the sheath.

"Where did you get it?" Harry asked, still in wonder at the craftsmanship in his mind's eye.

"America. I was tracking one of Volderknob's supporters, who was trying to raise some support on that side of the pond. Luckily Dumbledore called in a favour or two and was able to secure me some help. In the end one of the Yanks said I was 'Damn useful for a Brit' and gave me this. Best present I've ever gotten. Yank even named this little beauty. Can't pronounce it, but he said it meant 'Cougar's Claw'. Thought all in all it might be appropriate for you. Now, most folk on this island still get itchy about someone carrying a 'weapon' around so openly, bloody hypocrites, carrying a wand that can kill just as easily. So I'll show you how to carry this with robes and without."

"What if I'm naked?" Harry queried.

Sebastian frowned, "Yes, that does seem to happen quite a bit. In that case just strap it to your thigh and beat cheeks. Under no circumstances are you to leave this. Am I understood?"

Harry nodded quickly and stood as Sebastian did. Twenty minutes later, Harry walked out of the Prewett house with his new tool strapped closely and unobtrusively down his leg, the handle barely protruding from the new rip in his jeans.

oOo

The morning of August thirty-first was a normal one in the Weasley household. It brought strife, whining, yelling and frequent motherly admonishments as Molly Weasley tried to whip her family into a cohesive shopping unit for their day trip to Diagon Alley. "BOYS! Get yourselves down here this instant! We've all five of you to shop for and I don't want to be hanging about all day. Arthur, would you please do something about those twins of yours, and Ginny, where is Harry? He's supposed to go with us." The last statement carried an involuntary frown with it.

It wasn't as though Molly wasn't grateful to the boy for saving her sons; she just didn't think he was a positive influence when there wasn't imminent danger. She certainly wasn't at all sure about her only daughter spending so much time alone with the boy. Molly remembered her first crush and while nothing remotely scandalous had come from it, well… children were growing up faster these days. Unfortunately, she couldn't come up with a decent enough reason for her children not to associate with young Mr. Potter, not to mention the familial strife from her Aunt and Uncle.

"Mum, he's not here. I'm going to go see if he's at Auntie's," Ginny yelled on her way out the door.

"Ginny, wait this moment!" Molly hollered after her wayward daughter, but looking out the front door she was already gone.

Harry was having a wonderful dream. He was prowling the dense jungles of Africa, stalking caribou, elephant, and a giant, sentient, pre-cooked ham. He was closing in on them… closer… closer, when the ham turned and gave him a giant sloppy lick.

Startled from his dream the slayer of snakes and charmer of women looked up to confront a giant lion's head.

"MEROWW!" Harry screeched, momentarily taken aback. This of course woke the rest of the pride up, who had quite similar reactions, until the offending head removed its self from the family sleeping den.

Father gave his son a look that clearly read, 'she's here for you, go take care of it.' So, Harry cautiously set foot outside the den and locked eyes with the monstrous lioness before him. Her red fur was shining brightly in the early morning sun and the playful brown eyes finally jogged Harry's memory enough for him to respond.

'Ginny!'

'Harry?'

'You can change! How, when? That is sexing incredible!'

Ginny blushed at the praise and let out a roar that shook houses in the centre of town. Inside, Arabella frantically put on her dressing gown and slippers to locate the source of the noise, while her brother, reading the paper, merely smiled.

"I was wondering when she'd get around to it. She's faster than I thought," he murmured.

Arabella, was outside a few moments later to find both kids dancing a ridiculous jig and laughing hysterically. "Children, what was that noise? I don't want you out here if something's escaped from the zoo."

They both rolled their eyes at the protective old woman. "Auntie, I bet it was just an invention of Fred and George's gone wrong, and there isn't a zoo for miles. We're fine I promise," Ginny reassured her. Looking at Harry she continued, "I was sent to come get you. We have to go to get our school things today."

Nodding, both cats in human form began the arduous two legged trek back to the burrow, which gave Harry the chance to interrogate his human on her rather unorthodox wake-up methods.

"Sparkplug, when did you make the change? That's fantastic. It took me months before I could change smoothly. Wow… you're fantastic you know that. You've only been practicing for a couple months yourself."

Ginny blushed at the compliment, but felt she needed to set the record straight. "I changed once last night, but it took me the rest of the night to change back, and this morning I didn't mean to. It just sort of happened."

Harry's smile faltered a little. "Oh… well, you still did it! We'll have you as a regular lioness in no time. Ohhh… Hogwarts Mum will be surprised! They'll be asking you for all sorts of help this year, I'm sure of it."

"That wouldn't be so bad. I'd like to help them, after last year," Ginny said sadly.

Harry's faltering smile turned into a full blown frown. "Yeah, so would I, but we can't change it. All we can do is keep helping them, but enough of this morose shite. I'm getting depressed and today is a happy day!"

"And why is that?" Ginny asked. She certainly couldn't remember a reason why today was any more special than the last.

"Because, today we get you your own wand," Harry smiled broadly.

Ginny blushed and sputtered again. "Paws, I told you I can make do with the one I have."

"Of course you can, but no human of mine is going to 'make do' when I've a large hole in the ground full of shiny things!" Harry proclaimed.

"'Your human' huh? I don't know if I like that or not. Just don't expect me to scratch by your tail if you've only two legs," Ginny muttered. Harry grinned. A grin that was quickly wiped off his face when the frantic voice of Molly Weasley, the greatest witch of all time, began to assault his delicate senses.

"Ginevra Molly Wesley! Where have you been? Took off right out the door, with no note and I'd no notion of where you'd gone off to. You could have been hurt or killed and I'd never known it. When we get to Diagon Alley, young lady, you aren't to move more than six feet from me!" Turning and making eye contact with Harry, the frazzled matriarch added as an obvious afterthought, "Oh, hello Harry dear. I'd hoped you'd turn up today. Arabella asked me to take you to buy your school things today. Now come along you lot, we've much to do and far less time to do it in."

Harry and Ginny exchanged confused looks. The woman had no volume control, it seemed. She was on or off. Harry thought briefly and nodded approvingly, this was very Kneazle-like.

oOo

Diagon Alley was crowded as usual, which made Harry highly uncomfortable, as usual. The crowd of red-heads plus one picked their way through shops, and street vendors on their mission to gather necessary supplies for the coming school year.

After leaving Gringotts, their first stop was Flourish and Blotts. "Hello, dears, is there anything I can help you with?" An overly sweet saleswitch asked. Harry gagged involuntarily on the stench of her perfume.

"Yes, we've gathered all the standard books here, but several of my children are going to need the 'Monster Book of Monsters', and I can't seem to find a copy anywhere," Molly said, looking carefully at the school book list.

The saleswitch's smile faltered slightly. "Errr… how many exactly do you need?"

"Just you and Harry, Ron?" Ron nodded fervently.

"Two then." The saleswitch paled further.

"Three, please!" A voice came through the crowd. In another moment a very ruffled Hermione appeared and solved the mystery of the source.

"Three?"

"Definitely three," Molly confirmed.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, and then much more gruffly subdued, "Hello then. Had a good summer?" Harry noticed Ron never quite met her eyes.

"Oh yes! We had a wonderful time. My parents took me to France and we toured all over and stopped in Dijon and Paris…"

"You stepped in mustard?" Ron asked, shocked. "I wouldn't think you'd be too chuffed about that."

"Honestly, Ron, I stopped in Dijon. The city in France. Ughhh… sometimes boys can be so thick." Hermione stared imploringly at Ginny to understand. The other girl merely giggled.

"How was I to know? It's not like I've ever been to the bloody place, and with all this noise it's bloody hard to hear!"

Harry shook his head and grabbed Ginny's hand. He'd seen something moving in a cage by the wall and was curious to find out what it was. To his and Ginny's shock, it was a pile of books that said 'Monster Book of Monsters' on a sign above the cage. There were still quite a few of them and the saleswitch seemed to be struggling with one of them as it tried to bite her hand.

"Curse these things! School books or not, this is the last year I'll stock them. You mark my words," the manager shouted as another book he was trying to extract clamped solidly on his fingers.

Harry and Ginny watched for another minute as the sales staff continued to battle the ferocious texts with little success. The boy-Kneazle's face was screwed up into a deep concentrated scowl of thought. They were going about it all wrong. How could witches and wizards know so much about so much and still not understand the most basic concepts.

Striding boldly up to the manager, Harry asked in his most pleasant and helpful voice, "Pardon me sir, would you like some help with those?"

Taken momentarily aback, the manager grimaced as another book latched onto a digit he had failed to keep out of harm's way. "Boy, if you think you can do this any better, then I'd be delighted to see how." The man shook his head and removed all body parts out of the cage and away from further damage.

Harry gave a slight bow and then reached in to grab one of the angry books, only to pull out his hand a second later nursing a very sore middle finger. The raucous laughter of several men behind him did nothing to deter the fearsome purpose with which Harry now felt himself charged. "So that's how it's going to be, you little buggers?" he muttered.

Quick as a flash, Harry snatched a book from the cage and let go, the ferocious volume falling on the floor. Several people began to scream, but it was cut off by the barbarous and bloodthirsty roar that ripped from the young teen's throat as he slammed his hand on to the snapping pages. The book went still as our feral hero grabbed the spine in his teeth and shook it hard, emitting a long low growl. The book did not open again. One onlooker would later claim that he swore he saw the book… shudder.

Setting it gently in his shopping bag, Harry turned and stared brightly at the manager. "How much, for this one?"

The man could only stammer, "It's free if you leave with it now…"

Harry's smile brightened. Sometimes it was nice when people recognised a quality job when they saw it. Whistling a happy tune he led Ginny back through a crowd that parted like the Red Sea, as if even touching the teen could turn them into a beast of similar savagery. Harry seemed oblivious to the looks of shock and even fear that came his way, until he met back with the clan of his Human.

"What was that awful noise?" Molly asked

"Oh, that was me," Harry replied. "I was exerting dominance."

"What?" Arthur asked faintly, as he rubbed his hand blearily over his face. He was starting to think he should have bagged off and gone for a pint.

"I was exerting dominance, over the book."

"He really did, Daddy!" Ginny rushed out, and then proceeded to explain precisely why the books needed to be dominated.

"Oh dear… Arthur, would you take the children for ice cream? I'm going to finish up here and then maybe we can get new robes for Ginny and Percy."

Nodding silently, Arthur rushed his entire brood, plus two, out the doors and down the street to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

"Harry, did you really make that awful noise?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded and then proceeded to tune his friend completely out. He liked her, he really did, but she had no talent for understanding how the natural world worked.

Twenty minutes later, the entire group had just about finished up their late morning treat when Molly bustled over her face as red as her hair. "Harry, may I talk to you a moment?" Her voice was sweet, but had an undercurrent of ice to it. All the Weasley children recognised that tone, and shuddered involuntarily. Sensing an opportunity, Harry quickly ate the last bite of ice cream off Ginny's spoon and hopped off his chair, ignoring her sputtering protests.

Following Molly to an area that seemed slightly less crowded, Harry was confronted suddenly and without warning by the full force of Molly's anger.

"Harry, do you have any idea what you did in there? I've agreed to take you shopping for your things as a favour to Aunt Arabella, and she assured me you'd be on your best behaviour. Scaring half the book shop and causing a scene of that size is hardly what I would call even remotely decent behaviour. Now, what do you have to say for yourself?" She fixed him with her best mum intimidation glare and dared him to say the wrong thing. Luckily, Harry was a Gryffindor, so a lack of social tact and compensating amounts of bravery seemed to come standard issue.

"Mum Weasley, I handled the situation as I thought best. I have an acute understanding of these types of things and I don't need you to tell me off for making the book behave itself. I don't see Sebastian yelling at you when you discipline Ginny or the twins."

Molly sputtered and, if possible, turned redder. "YOUNG MAN! That is a completely different situation. What you did in there was…" 

"No different than throwing a Kneazle off your window sill for eating pie crumbs. You did that, because you sensed the Kneazle was misbehaving. He wasn't, but these books were and I needed to show them you don't bite the hand that reads you." Harry glared back at the fuming matriarch. He wasn't going to be pushed around on this. He was right, dammit!

Molly stared down at the ward of her Aunt and Uncle. He was infuriating. She wondered idly how he hadn't managed to get himself thrown out of Hogwarts. He had to be taught a lesson, and he needed to learn respect. She was right, dammit!

Sensing they were at an impasse and unwilling to discipline a child not her own, she finally huffed and said, "Fine, but we're having words with Arabella and Sebastian when we get back."

"I hope we do," Harry replied grimly.

The Weasley clan seemed to be surprised at the relative speed with which the encounter was resolved, but Arthur couldn't help the feeling he'd still be sleeping on the couch tonight.

"We're going to get some new robes next. Come on you lot," Molly declared in a tone that would brook no argument.

"What did you say to her?" Ron asked in complete wonderment.

"Told her the books needed to be disciplined, and she took exception," Harry replied.

"You're mental, you know that right?" Ron said, shaking his head. "The bravest Gryffindor that may have ever lived, but completely mental."

Slinking next to Ginny as they headed to the second hand robe shop, Harry pointed at Ollivander's standing right next to it. It seemed like a sign from providence.

"Come on, Sparkplug. We won't get a better chance than this!"

"Paws, Mum will be furious. You can't just up and buy me a new wand," Ginny hissed back.

"Ginny, as your Kneazle protector, it is my job to make sure you can fend for yourself as well. You need a good wand for that. Now come on. She can't make you take it back and I've already got the money. Let's go!"

Grabbing Ginny by the hand, Harry rushed her into the dim interior of the wand maker's shop. "Hello, what may I do for you today?" The spindly body of old man Ollivander appeared from behind the counter, eying the two wayward teens.

"Ginny needs a wand. If you could find one for her," Harry asked as politely as he could manage.

"Ah, of course. The youngest Weasley… I was wondering when I'd be seeing you here. Now, what do we have to work with, hmmm?" Ten minutes and seven wands later, Ginny shot red and gold sparks from the tip of a very unusual wand.

"Curioser and curioser, what to make of this my dear."

"What? Is it something bad, sir?" Ginny asked timidly.

"No, a wand choosing the witch or wizard is never something to be concerned about. I am simply shocked at the match."

"What's so unusual about it?" Ginny said, more boldly this time.

"Well my dear, there are components to every wand and the Phoenix that gave the feather for this wand gave one other only. Terrible and great things were performed with that wand, it belongs to the darkest of wizards. He-who-must-not-be-named."

Ginny gasped and Harry's eyes took on a cold look. "This is the… sibling to Voldemort's wand?" Harry asked quietly. Ollivander nodded.

"Is it possible for me to get a different wand?" Ginny softly muttered, clearly not meaning to be overheard. Unfortunately, Ollivander's hearing was quite good, despite his age.

"No, my dear. I am quite afraid that once a wand chooses you another will not until you connection with that is broken. I would think you would be quite pleased. A perfect match such as that will provide you with superior magic. Most would be pleased, a powerful wand such as that destines the user for great things."

"I'd be doing a happy dance if my brand new wand wasn't cosmically connected to the most evil man of all time," Ginny muttered again.

"How much for the wand, sir?" Harry interrupted. He sensed their time before Molly discovered their absence was diminishing at a rapid rate.

"Seven Galleons."

Harry paid the money and hurried a still muttering Ginny out of the creepy store and back into the second hand robes next door, right into the baleful glare of one Molly Weasley. Today was shaping up to be one fantastic time, Ginny thought caustically.

"Where have you two been?" Molly shouted. "I turn around and you're nowhere to be seen, could have gone to lord knows where. I tell you to stay close and where do you go gallivanting off to?"

"Ollivanders!" Harry supplied, cheerfully. It felt nice to finally be able to answer a question right. He been spending the day up to that point receiving a thorough tongue lashing, and certainly not the beneficial kind that Mum would give.

"What on earth did you need to go to Ollivander's for?"

"Ginny needed a new wand, and I wanted my yearly case of dust poisoning. Luckily we were able kill two mice with one paw." Ginny giggled involuntarily at Harry's off-beat saying, earning her the baleful eye of her mother.

"And how may I ask, Ginevra, did you manage to afford such a thing?"

"I bought it," Harry interjected again. "So, perhaps you can add that on to the things you wish to have Arabella scold me about later and we can be on our way?" Harry gave his best disarming smile and motioned for Molly to lead the way into the interior of the shop.

An hour later, Molly's wrath had subsided slightly, when Hermione spoke up. "Ron, I've some pocket money left that my parents gave me, and I'd like to get a birthday present. Any ideas?"

"A book?" Ron offered.

"A can of Kneazle treats?" Harry supplied.

"An owl." Ginny proffered. At this, Hermione practically glowed.

"Great idea! An owl of my own. It would be quite useful."

"Magical Menagerie is right near here, you could just pop in and get one. Better hurry, I think Mum's getting a bit anxious," Ron finished.

"Would you like to come with me?" Hermione asked the group. Ron was agreeable, but Ginny and Harry declined.

"I think Mum would go spare if I did another disappearing act," Ginny regretfully informed them.

"Harry?"

]

"It's like touring a prison. I can't."

"Ok, mate, but don't say we didn't ask."

Twenty minutes later Harry could hear their exit before he spotted them. They were arguing about Hermione's choice of pet if Ron's ranting was anything to go by. "I can't believe you got that monster!" Ron ranted.

"He isn't a monster, are you, Crookshanks?" Hermione cooed.

A few seconds later, Harry was able to spot what all the fuss was about and he was shocked. It was a half-Kneazle with a bottle brush tail and the most fabulous orange coat. The cat radiated cool, confident and deadly. If this cat were human, Harry reflected, he'd be wearing all dragon skin leathers, aviator sunglasses, and driving a flying motorbike, either a Triumph or Harley-Davidson, if Mr. Weasley's posters were anything to go by.

"Are you his?" Harry asked in awe.

"He's my pet, Harry. His name is Crookshanks," Hermione said, a little confused.

"Hey, buddy. Don't worry, she just doesn't understand yet," Harry whispered to the orange ball of pure awesome residing in his friend's arms. Crookshanks gave him an appraising once-over and leaped from Hermione's startled arms delicately onto Harry's shoulder where he was rewarded with furious chin scratching.

"He likes you, Harry!"

"Senses a kindred spirit, more like," Ginny muttered.

Ron merely glared. "Can't believe you like him too. I figured someone might be on my side."

Harry merely ignored his friend; he was deep in conversation with the new Duke of Orange.

_You__ pick her? You have good taste_, Harry began. He was improving at speaking with the forest animals while in human form.

_You can talk the talk, how_? Crookshanks was so surprised he almost fell off his perch. Harry laughed a little.

_I__ can also walk the walk cousin. Ask Isis, she made me. When you find out, let me know._

_We're going to Hogwarts__?_ Crookshanks asked carefully.

_Yes, you'll love it. Forests filled with prey, giant Kneazle rending predators to avoid and burrows ev__erywhere._

_Sounds fantastic__, I'll need to watch my Human_.

_They will allow for that. I am with her most of the __time, so you can prowl with me._

_Fantastic, cousin. I think I'll love it there_.

_We definitely need __to get you a motorbike, though._ Harry murmured.

_What? What's that?_

_Oh… never mind, let's go, your human is sta__rting to give us strange looks_./i

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione finally asked perplexed. She rather felt like she was listening to one half of a conversation on the telephone.

"Bonding with the crown prince of mousers," Harry replied.

"Oh." And that was all Hermione or anyone else could think to say.

oOo

Harry sat on Sebastian's lap, enjoying the old man's gentle hands smoothing his fur and rubbing his ears as the colourful sounds of Molly Weasley and her Aunt's argument raged in the background. It was nice not being in there to bear the brunt of the Weasley matriarch's anger.

"He's the most ill-tempered, rude boy I've ever met. I don't know what you and Uncle are doing with him, but I won't stand for his ill behaviour to rub off on my children," Molly shouted.

"Molly, he's a wonderful boy. I don't know what you think he did, but…"

"What did he do?" Molly then proceeded to regale her Aunt with the stories of that day's infractions. At the end, Harry could hear his aged caretaker slump deeply into a chair.

"Thank, Merlin. For a moment I'd imagined he'd run naked through the town or tried to kill someone again. Really, Molly, in the grand scheme of things what did he do? He bought your daughter a wand, to which among most polite societies it is customary to say thank you, and he happened to embarrass you in a bookshop. Your pride was offended, niece, merely your sense of propriety. Harry has a strong will and he's used to doing things a certain way. Sebastian and I are too old to go chasing Kneazles anymore and as long as it isn't strictly illegal I see no reason for him to be punished. I know this doesn't agree with your sense of parenting, Molly, but he's had a bit of a different upbringing that your brood and I can't say that he should be handled the same way. The boy is loyal to you and your family and would protect that daughter of yours with more than his life. Merlin, this past year he fought a Basilisk to save two of your sons! I won't suggest you apologise, but I would say that in the future you should treat him more like a wandering spirit than a child of your womb," Arabella finished speaking and Harry could hear the fatigue in her voice. She didn't often get into arguments and they tended to wear her out.

Hopping off Sebastian's lap, he headed over to the Pride's caretaker and gave standard Kneazle emotional support. He ran a figure eight around her legs purring like a finely tuned Jaguar. Stealing a glance at the red-haired witch, Harry saw that she was put out with the telling off, but wouldn't say anything further for fear of upsetting her aunt.

"I'm still not happy about it, Auntie."

"Molly, I don't expect you to be. Sebastian and I are eternally grateful that you've been helping us keep an eye on the boy, but in the end he is our responsibility."

With the conversation over, Molly turned to leave only to be intercepted by her Uncle.

"One thing, if you will. Since today has been so trying on you, I'll take Harry to the station. No need for further aggravation," Sebastian smiled gently.

Molly appeared visibly relieved. "Thank you, Uncle. I am trying to like him, I am."

"He does make it rather difficult sometimes though, doesn't he?" Sebastian supplied. His niece merely nodded. "No worries, Molly. I'll have a talk with him about trying to keep the peace. In the meantime, I do believe it is almost supper time."

_AN:_

_Here we are with Chapter 26 and several of my favourite scenes to write ever. Now, some people may be saying 'it is too soon for Ginny to be an Animagus' please remain calm. She doesn't have full control yet, and certainly not like Harry. She is also a very powerful witch. Hope this satisfies. Another 2 before 27 comes out, but I hope you'll bear with me. Leave beer and reviews, they keep me ever so motivated._


	27. Sum of all fears

Ch 27. Sum of all Fears

"Again, Harry, you're getting sloppy," Sebastian commanded.

Harry faced his opponent and crouched low, the bone-handled knife held just as Sebastian had shown him. He studied his opponent's breathing, the shifting of his weight, biding his time for just the right opportunity… Harry lunged suddenly, his knife whipping out in a curving upward motion. The satisfying sound of metal shredding cleanly through cloth was offset by the brutal kick in the ribs that sent Harry to the ground once more.

"Hmmm… better. You've the footwork down, I'll say that much. Your breathing doesn't give much away. You're no Jim Bowie, but you'll do for now," Sebastian mulled quietly. "Of course, you've a long way to go, so I'd wipe that shite-eating grin off your face right now. You'll not be ready until you can reasonably kill me every time."

Harry tried, and mostly succeeded, in concealing his pleasure at the praise he'd received from his mentor. Even Father and some of his older brothers had come out to watch, once they'd realized what he was up to.

Both man and Kneazle-boy hobbled gingerly back to the house. Harry had come off the worse for wear in every session they'd had, but as Sebastian had pointed out they'd only been practicing for a few days and Harry couldn't expect to learn everything in a week.

The sun was starting to peek over the trees when they finally hobbled into the house and faced a very irate Arabella.

"Brother, I told you to take it easy this morning. He has a rough day ahead and he doesn't need to be injured before term starts. He's quite capable of doing that himself."

"Bells, it's import…" Sebastian was swiftly cut off.

"Don't you 'Bells' me! I told you not to be too rough and there you've ruined that robe. I'll have to spend the drive to the station sewing that up. Now, why don't you go make yourself useful and put that trunk in the boot. Harry, dear, have you said goodbye to everyone?"

"Yes. I think they're getting used to the idea. Mum was tearful as always, but Father was proud. He told me not to try and kill anymore snakes this year. Told me to stick to safer things, like dogs," Harry chuckled weakly. This year seemed harder to leave the corn crib than last year did. Perhaps this was what caused so many of his siblings to stay with the family.

"Well alright, dear. If you're sure I think I better check on my delinquent brother and make sure he isn't trying to blow something up."

A few minutes later they had all three of them, plus luggage safely stowed in the car. The journey to King's Cross would have been unremarkable, except for the fact that Sebastian had his wand out and was looking particularly alert.

"Something wrong, Sebastian?" Harry asked as they were getting out of the car, noting the way the older man's eyes were darting around the station.

"Just being cautious, son. Black had no problem killing thirteen Muggles and one of his best friends in a crowded and very public area. I doubt he'd have much problem attacking you here. I can handle him I think, but only if I see the bugger coming."

"I wish you'd taken the help when it was offered," Arabella muttered.

"I don't want those squid-sucking pumpkin-rotters anywhere near us, Bells," Sebastian fired back. "I'm still capable to defend the family, and Harry's fast on his feet. The next time an Auror gets near me will be his last." Looking directly at Harry, he continued. "Those buggers offered 'protection' and 'support' to make sure you got here alright, but I told them I was perfectly capable myself. Still faster than half those they'd send. Not one has seen what I've seen," Sebastian winked and tapped his wand to his temple.

"Right then, Harry. Be good, and don't chase after Black, you hear me?" Arabella warned.

"Sure, why would I want to chase after a blighter that wants to kill me? It isn't like you get points for being brave," Harry rolled his eyes.

"Sure, now he says that. He did betray your parents, Harry, and we just want to make sure you aren't going to do anything stupid," Sebastian added.

"And to be sure the man deserves to die, and I'm sure someone will kill him dead as my dinner, and it does bother me that he betrayed my… parents, but I'm not going to go looking for some bugger who has it in for me as long as he stays away from Ginny."

"Oh lord," both siblings muttered.

"Harry, go get on the train, and try to be good," Arabella said faintly.

"One moment before you go," Sebastian said quietly. "I found this in your discarded Hogwarts envelope, and though I know it wouldn't make any difference whether or not you'd go, just thought it should be legal in any case," the old man finished, slipping a slip of paper into Harry's hand. Unfolding it quickly, Harry saw it was the permission form to visit Hogsmeade, signed of course. Harry shrugged; Sebastian was right, it wouldn't make any difference to him.

As they watched their young charge disappear into the barrier between platforms, both Prewett siblings had the same feeling. It was one thing to send a boy you'd grown very fond of off to a school with a reputation for danger; it was another to send a danger prone boy off when a madman was hunting him and the boy had more guts than sense.

"You know, I'm glad you gave him that knife."

"I know you are. It may save his life. It certainly saved mine."

"He'd gotten quite good, you know," Arabella remarked.

"And how would you know?" Sebastian fired back.

"You had your Yank friend over to the house some years ago, Doug I believe his name was. You two were practicing in the back yard. It looked nearly the same."

"Harry's nowhere near Doug's level, but he is quite good. I'd tell him that too if I weren't convinced he'd be challenging stray Manticores to duels. He almost had me. If he was a shade faster, or just a hair smarter about it, he'd have killed me twice this morning."

Arabella smiled thinly. "Then, dearest brother of mine, I do suppose it is quite good he is neither faster nor smarter than he is."

Harry, on the other hand, felt that he was plenty smart and fast, having successfully surprised both Ginny and Ron who were in a middle of an argument about Quidditch and whether or not Hogwarts should start a Quodpot league.

"Yeahhh!" They both yelled.

"Missed me didn't you?" Harry grinned.

After receiving a thorough tongue-lashing from Ginny and an angry glare from Ron, the trio was joined by their wayward shopping companion and her personal feline bodyguard. The immediate effect was causing an argument between Ron and Hermione, the subject of which, neither Harry nor Ginny could follow.

The argument died as quickly as it began, when Crookshanks, freed from his cage by Harry, draped himself over the boy's shoulders and settled into his new vantage point.

"Harry, he has to stay in his cage!" Hermione protested, and Ron vehemently agreed.

"No, he'll stay right with me, as long as I stay with you. He can't protect you very well from inside the cage," Harry said.

"Why would he protect me?" Hermione looked puzzled.

"It's what we do," Harry shrugged and then lifted his trunk carefully so as not to disturb his new passenger.

With the distraction gone, and Ginny following closely behind, Harry could hear the argument resume in earnest. As they drew out of sight of the bickering duo, Crookshanks shot his mount a very dissatisfied glare. "Don't worry, as long as you can still hear them they'll be alright. She'll be along in a moment. You have to get used to these sorts of things, you can't watch her every moment."

The look from the perched feline was one even Ginny had no trouble understanding, 'Just you watch'. Searching the train briefly, they found a nearly empty compartment. Its only resident was a greying middle-aged man who looked to be in a general state of disrepair. Stepping slightly closer, both Harry and his brother-in-fur bristled. The man stunk like dog and had the mark of the predator. "Ginny, we've got to get out of here, now."

"Harry, we took too long to get ready this morning. All the other compartments are full, what do you suggest?"

"Outside, engine, anywhere but here. I won't stay here, and neither will you," he said, roughly grabbing her arm and dragging her towards the back of the car.

"Harry! What's going on? "

"If there really aren't any spots for us here, then we have to find somewhere else," Harry replied gruffly. The feeling of dog permeated his senses; he needed out and out now. Crookshanks dismounted and headed back the other direction. Harry had his human, Crookshanks needed to find his.

"Outside, there." Harry pointed at a ladder going up the side of one of the cars.

"You can't be serious…" Ginny stared at her protector and friend like he'd grown two heads.

"Dead serious. Dogs have a harder time with heights. You go first; I'll catch you if you fall."

"Harry, if I fall, I'm going to kill you," Ginny grimaced as she began climbing. Soon enough they were sitting on top of the train as it sped its way along the tracks several cars away from their starting point. All traces of civilization being left solidly behind.

Minutes turned to an hour and Ginny found that she really didn't mind the unusual travel arrangements. They were sitting near to the edge of the train when she noticed Harry stiffen. "What's wrong, Paws?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

"I'm not liking the sounds coming from the compartment below us," he replied as faintly as could still be heard over the rush of the wind.

"What's going on?"

"They're making fun of someone in there. I don't understand it all, but it sounds like a girl from Ravenclaw. They keep calling her 'loony'. I would think being a bird would be an admirable trait for a house of ravens," Harry said perplexed.

"Loony? Like, Loony Lovegood? Is that what they're saying?" Ginny's voice began to rise.

"Yes, why? Do you know her?"

Ginny's eyes were downcast momentarily before she started speaking. "She used to be a friend of mine, a long time ago. I stopped playing with her so much after you came along and we had better adventures, but you were at her house once or twice. Mum told me to look out for her, last year and I didn't do much with all the excitement. She's always been a bit of an odd duck since her Mum died, but the Lovegoods only live on the other side of the town."

Harry gazed suspiciously at his friend. "Was that the time you took me through the fireplace and dressed me up so I could play 'tea'?"

Ginny nodded and Harry's eyes narrowed further. "Was that the same time you threw me out the second story window because she told you Kneazles could fly and you wanted to prove her wrong?" Ginny nodded again.

"And was this also the time where you held me up on my hind legs for a half-hour and made me 'dance' for your general amusement?"

"Look, Harry, I understand if you hold a grudge, but we really should…"

Ginny was abruptly cut off. "Let's go." Ginny stared at him with disbelief as he got to a kneeling position.

"But all those horrible things you remembered I did," she looked at him slack-jawed. How could he still be willing to help? He obviously carried the memories about because they were important.

"Oh, I just wanted to make sure it was the same girl. Afterwards, when you had undressed me and finally let me be, she opened an extra large can of Kneazle treats in her bedroom and kicked them over. She told me to 'eat till I explode like a Crumple-Horned Snorcack'. If she's like that when she is little, I can only imagine what she'll do if we rescue her from unending torment. Plus, from her responses to her tormenters, she sounds eminently entertaining."

Ginny stared at her best friend and vaguely thought, that for knowing him for as long as she did, she really knew nothing about how the boy in front of her worked at all. She gasped suddenly when her Kneazle on legs suddenly produced a very dangerous looking knife.

"Harry, where did you get that?" she hissed.

Harry merely smirked. "From your great uncle. Now stand back and watch. We'll make certain those cretins won't pick on my Pride." With that he raised the knife and plunged it into the roof of the train, and with considerable difficulty, began cutting a square. After thirty seconds, the unattached metal plunged to into the cavernous confines of the compartment and a second later Harry plunged in after.

Ginny sat for another second or two before deciding to follow her wayward protector into the recently aerated depths of the Hogwarts' Express. When she landed next to Harry, the taunting had ended and sneaking a glance over her shoulder, Ginny observed one Luna Lovegood absentmindedly scribbling on a magazine of some sort, perhaps the _Quibbler_.

In front of her stood three very confused older students. Ginny recognised them as certainly being in the fifth or sixth year and likely of Ravenclaw allegiance. The blue and bronze was enough to give it away. Harry stood on top of the scrap metal from the recently created skylight, with his fists balled and a maniacal smirk on his face. He'd obviously put the knife away and was intent on dealing out a painful lesson with his fists, and while all three of the students were girls, they still had a numerical and slight size advantage on Miss Lovegood's champion.

Harry grinned ferociously. He could smell their fear. It was an old saying, Kneazles could smell fear at a hundred yards and blood in the water from over a mile. At least, he thought that was a saying, perhaps not, but either way these fiendish females were no longer in control of the situation and he knew it. It galled him the way they were picking on a girl half their size. 'Don't kill, don't kill', he chanted in his head. He'd even put the knife away so as not to be tempted to use it. He'd have to scare them, but how?

An idea began to form in his mind, but he'd need a lilipuck, a jar of peanut butter, and a goat. His subconscious had different plans. He knew these girls were a moment from bolting, and only their pride and the fact that they had their wands out prevented them from doing so. 'A good loud 'boo' ought to do it,' Harry thought.

He sucked in air for the 'boo' of his life, but what came out was very different. A roar loud enough to shake the dust from the compartment and might have cracked a window had they not been magically enchanted against such things.

Ginny's head was ringing as two girls ran out of the compartment, the third was prone on the floor.

"I think I killed it," Harry said, none too quietly.

"No, if it was dead, the chest would stop moving. Hers is going up and down steadily, so I'm quite sure you didn't, but your voice is very impressive. You must be part lion," Luna piped up from behind, making the pair jump.

"Oh, you're ok then, Luna?" Ginny asked.

"Why wouldn't I be? Very nice entrance by the way. Quite impressive with the cutting. The pumpkins must fear you come Halloween."

"It's just that we thought they were making fun of you, and you didn't seem to have any friends…" Ginny trailed off.

"No, I suppose I don't, do I? No one seems to want to sit near 'Loony' Lovegood, but I suppose that is their problem, isn't it? I don't mind," Luna concluded in an eerily cheery voice. Coming from anyone else it would sound bitter and angry, but from the small blonde girl it merely sounded factual. Harry found there was something otherworldly about her, as though she moved in a small pocket of space not totally accessible to anyone else. Harry found himself grinning and liking this strange girl as much as his first encounter with her.

"Well, you won't mind if we sit with you, then?" Harry asked.

"No, I suppose not. I've never had anybody ask. It should be lovely to try," Luna said, as she went back to her magazine.

Harry took up a protective seat near the door with both girls to the inside, his arms crossed and his best scowl firmly in place. It seemed he knew something was coming and Ginny was all too eager to find out what.

A moment later, she found out. Percy Weasley, three prefects and the raggedy man Harry had insisted they stay away from, all rounded on their compartment with varying degrees of shock and awe.

"Mr. Potter, would you care to explain this?" Percy began, unconsciously throwing his 'Head Boy' badge out a little further as if to emphasize a point.

"It was stuffy, Perce. We needed some fresh air," Ginny retorted, standing as Harry had and moving to his right shoulder. Though neither noticed, Harry instinctively moved slightly in front of her, just in case.

"And, you couldn't have simply opened a window?" The older man threw both children a highly entertained expression.

"I was merely going for efficiency," Harry ground out, locking eyes with the man. His feelings of rage and hate were bubbling to the surface uncontrollably. There was something so wrong about this man, and every instinct in the boy was screaming to plunge claws into the stranger's neck.

"That's odd," Ginny remarked suddenly.

"What?" Harry replied gruffly, not taking his eyes off the dangerous human-thing in front of him.

"The train stopped. I wonder why."

"Perhaps bur-bars have peeled up the track again, they've been known to do that," Luna replied off-handedly, not looking up from her magazine.

The train began to grow cold and dark in a very rapid manner, causing everyone to shiver uncontrollably. The older man began to give good sensible orders, which only infuriated Harry the more. "Everyone, into a compartment, now," he barked, authoritatively.

Ginny pressed into her protector's side and began shaking violently. Harry put his arm around his vulnerable human and drew his knife instinctively. Though he'd not had it for long, it felt more a part of him than his wand ever had, it was his human claw.

Then the voices came. As the train darkened and the happiness felt like it was being sucked from his very soul, Harry could hear the voices, a woman's high pitched scream for the life of her son and an evil cackle of insidious laughter. Harry struggled to maintain control of his senses, but he felt the icy grip of unconsciousness claim him. He couldn't let it end this way, he had to save the woman. There was something deeply personal about her voice.

"Leave her alone you wolf sexing sonova-bitch!" And then the blackness claimed him.

He was dead, he was sure of it now. Due to some cosmic joke, the vessel on which his soul would travel to join Isis herself as her personal bodyguard was an identical replica of the Hogwarts Express. There was even the hole he cut in the ceiling, before dark and terrible creatures rendered him unable to defend himself against the horrible wolf-man that Harry was sure wanted nothing better than to rend Harry and his Ginny limb from limb and sacrifice their blood to the dark demon Sirius, avatar of the dog star.

His head was being cradled by an angel of red hair and so fair a complexion that would make Isis herself blush with envy, Harry thought. The only curious matter was why she was human, and not a Kneazle as he would expect.

Glancing around the compartment, Harry noticed the faces of others he recognised and all of them were human. There was even the wolf standing above him looking relatively concerned. This led to one inescapable conclusion. "I'm in hell? I thought all Kneazles went to Heaven," he muttered.

A soft giggle redirected his wandering mind to the angel… no not an angel, Ginny. His Ginny. Thank Isis she hadn't been eaten!

"Harry, you're not in hell, even if those bloody Dementors made it seem that way. You just passed out, everyone had a bad time of it, though," Ginny consoled him.

Harry's mind was racing furiously. He had passed out? He'd never passed out in his life. How was he supposed to protect his Pride if he was unconscious? In the Pride, all Kneazles worked to defend their family. If there were creatures that could rob him of his ability to help it would place the entire group in danger.

Harry's mind was made up suddenly. He had a new mission this year; he was going to learn to defeat these creatures of the dog star. Sitting up slowly he was presented with a large piece of wolf flavoured chocolate. At least that is certainly what it smelled like. Momentarily, the suspicious agent of Isis had forgotten the demon that was in the room with him.

"Ginny, Luna, get back, he's a wolf!" Harry shouted, as he struggled to get towards the hole in the ceiling without much success. The old man stiffened visibly.

"Harry, stop being so rude! That is Professor Lupin. Professor… as in Dumbledore hired him." Ginny shouted back. They were two seconds away from their second big fight when a dreamy and unconcerned voice cut in.

"If he really was a wolf, I think he would have already torn your throat out and feasted on your entrails. Since he hasn't done so, I think he'd at least be a friendly wolf, don't you?"

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't refute the logic and so said nothing.

"As your young friend said, my name is Professor Lupin and I'll be teaching you this year, Harry. It is nice to finally meet you again," Lupin said cordially, but with a hint of sadness at the still suspicious eyes of the slumped student in front of him.

"What was that light that chased the Dementors away?" Ginny asked.

"A Patronus, which is some very advanced magic. Now, I better be about the train and if you can get Mr. Potter to eat some of that chocolate it would help him tremendously." The greying professor then stood and walked quickly out of the compartment.

"I think you might have offended him," Ginny offered.

"Ask me if I care," Harry growled.

"Do you care?" Luna murmured dreamily.

"Sex, no."

oOo

It seemed everyone had a negative reaction of some kind to the Dementors, but even with Harry's acute hearing he hadn't heard tell of anyone else fainting.

"Harry! Are you alright? There was a rumour going around that you'd taken ill or fainted. When you didn't show up at the compartment with us, we were terribly worried," Hermione rambled.

"Hermione, I'm fine. Yes, I… blacked out but I'm sure it happens frequently."

"Err… not so much, mate," Ron stammered in, looking clearly uncomfortable at delivering that piece of news.

"I almost did," Neville confessed. "It felt like I was going down and would never be happy again." It was odd, Harry thought. Though the Dementors certainly should account for some of it, Neville had a taut and troubled look on his face that couldn't wholly be accounted for.

"But you didn't faint," Harry noted grimly. This was troubling situation to be pondered. As he moved with the flow of the crowd another equally troubling voice was heard.

"Hey, Potter! Is it true? Did you really… faint?" the obnoxious voice of Draco Malfoy came floating through the tumultuous throng of students.

"Is it true you still breast feed?" Harry shot back, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

"Don't be ridiculous, Potter!" Malfoy snapped.

"So that's a no, then?" Ron interjected.

"No! Not that I have to explain anything to a blood traitor," Malfoy glowered at the lanky red-head.

"Mind if I have a go?" Harry said with a feral grin.

"You leave my mum out of this!" Malfoy shouted.

"Why? I wouldn't mind biting her scruff. She has good hips for kittens. You might not be the only heir if your father had the sense not to go hexing his bits off."

Malfoy was at this point in a fiery rage when a calm voice cut through. "Not having any problems here are we, boys?" Harry looked over and met eyes with one Professor Lupin.

"No, Professor," Malfoy spat with distain. "Just trying to discover why Potter might have had an attack of cowardice and feigned passing out."

Ohhh… now he was playing dirty. Harry narrowed his eyes at his blonde adversary. "Really? I thought we were trying to figure out how much for your mum to let me have a go. Do I get the Gryffindor discount?"

Hermione stood with her jaw slack next to Ron and Ginny who were looking at him with a cross between admiration and slight disgust. Neville however… let loose a loud and reverberating guffaw that was so unlike the normally reserved boy that it instantly drew everyone's attention.

"Shut it, Squib! You won't be laughing when cousin Rodolphus sits you next to your mummy and daddy," Malfoy snarled.

The laughter died so quickly it was like someone flipped a switch. Neville's mirth was replaced by something Harry had only experienced twice, the most recent being the end of his first year, terrifying unyielding rage. He could see the desire to do terrible and unspeakable things behind Neville's eyes and Harry was sure only the chubby boy's lack of experience prevented him from doing so. Never the less, Neville's wand was out and ready to cast a hex, regardless of company.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Lupin said forcefully. Before Neville could cast a single jinx his wand was sailing up and out of his hand and over to the professor, who gave a very stern and disapproving glare.

"Now boys, there is no need for this sort of behaviour. I'm quite sure Mr. Malfoy is willing to simply walk away from this little altercation and you, Mr. Longbottom, should be more careful with your wand. I'm going to keep it for now; you may have it back after the Sorting." Lupin said evenly.

"Malfoy's not even going to get a detention?" Ron fumed.

"Mr. Weasley, first of all, Mr. Longbottom did attack first which is never justified despite the verbal provocation, and secondly, I should really be announced first as a professor before I begin handing out detentions and docking house points," Lupin finished in a progressively tired tone.

"So you're really not going to give out a detention until tomorrow?" Harry asked as innocently as he could muster.

"I should think merely until after the feast. However, if it becomes necessary I will be more than happy to round up a herd of your usual professors. So, I would advise against any fancy wandwork in my presence."

Harry thought for a moment and then took three slow and deliberate steps towards Malfoy, putting the blonde boy just within reach. Whereupon our incensed Kneazle with two legs, let fly with a devastating hook to the right jaw, dropping his blonde opponent in a heap. Glaring fiercely at the two usual body guards he dared them to make a move. Both hesitated for a moment and a full brawl was averted when a powerful and familiar voice rang across the field.

"Mr. Potter! Would you and Miss Granger please accompany me back to the castle? You may explain why you were fighting with Mr. Malfoy when we get there." Professor McGonagall commanded.

Harry merely smirked as he watched the prone form of Malfoy on the ground. "I wasn't fighting, Professor. Fighting requires two hits. I just cold cocked, Malfoy here," Harry replied. He then raised his right foot and brought it down squarely on the centre of the other boy's face and was rewarded with a decisive snap and a sharp cry from the recipient. "Now I've been fighting and I would be happy to explain why when we do indeed get to the castle." Strutting past a stunned group of students, Harry leaned over to Neville and whispered, "Don't kill the bastard. Whatever he says just isn't worth it, believe me."

Neville nodded imperceptible and returned a quiet 'thank you' as his odd friend and Hermione followed a fuming Transfiguration professor towards the castle.

Once inside McGonagall's office, a sight Harry had become somewhat familiar with, his cousin began to dispense with the business she'd originally come on rather efficiently. She offered Harry chocolate and called Madam Pomfrey in to look him over briefly. When he protested that it all could have been done in the hospital, McGonagall replied, "I'll not give you a chance to go slipping off into the night to cavort with spiders and centaurs." Harry looked suitably admonished at this reasonable explanation.

Finally after the necessary pleasantries were dispensed with, McGonagall turned an angry eye on her brawling student. "Mr. Potter, before I decide what to do with you may I ask, for the sake of formality, why you felt the need to once again engage in a physical confrontation with Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry stared back for a moment before answering, "To save a friend from Azkaban and Mr. Malfoy's life."

"Explain," McGonagall barked.

"Neville would have killed Malfoy that instant, I'm sure of it. What I saw in his eyes then… was frightening. Now from what I understand about your society, murder, even if justified, is punishable by sentence to Azkaban. I didn't want Malfoy murdered, he really hasn't done anything to deserve it yet, and I certainly didn't want someone with as much potential as Neville to be relegated to someplace like that."

McGonagall's scowl deepened. "I am, as usual, unsure whether your response is genuine or a coached attempt by the Weasley twins to see exactly how gullible I am."

"I'm not sure I understand, Professor. I don't lie easily and I hardly think this would be a suitable excuse to attempt such an unwise decision."

McGonagall sighed. "May I at least have the pleasure of knowing what Mr. Malfoy said to elicit such a response from both you and Mr. Longbottom?"

"Of course. The ferret told Neville that he wouldn't be laughing when cousin Rodolphus sat him next to his mum and daddy."

Hermione swore she saw a shadow of something very sinister flash across her normally composed professor's face, but then it was gone as quickly.

"Mr. Potter, I still need to discuss Miss Granger's schedule with her. Now head down to the Great Hall, no detours. Am I understood?"

Harry nodded an affirmative and hurried off to find sustenance and companionship.

He arrived at the Gryffindor table and sandwiched himself between Ginny and Neville just as the Sorting was completed.

"You missed a good one, mate," Ron said, from across the table. "We got six more this time. What did McGonagall want?"

"Just wanted to make sure I was okay after those bloody Dementors and ask why I fought Malfoy."

"Wasn't much of a fight," Dean Thomas cut in. "Mostly just a good arse stomping from what I saw."

"So it was," Harry agreed. "Never the less, she wanted to know why I felt the need to stomp Malfoy's arse at that particular moment."

"Yeah, why did you do that? I saw a bit of a scuffle, but everyone was saying that you tried to hex the bloke first, Neville."

"Who cares, ponce probably deserved it," Ron cut in. Neville said nothing and merely stared at his hands.

Any further questioning was cut off by the Headmaster and his start of term announcements. Two new teachers were announced, one good and one bad. The first was Hagrid in the Care of Magical Creatures post, very good from Harry's perspective. Harry had never had much to do with Professor Kettleburn, but Hagrid would be phenomenal. The second was the wolf scented Remus Lupin, who would teach Defense against the Dark Arts. Harry grimaced at the thought of regular forced contact with the man. Wolves ate Kneazles and everyone knew it.

Dementors would apparently also be stationed at the edge of the grounds, but that did little to warrant concern. Kneazles could avoid such things, Harry was relatively sure. They weren't likely to be lurking in the Forbidden Forest at any rate.

The feast was delicious as usual and the ravenous consumption of food left little time to talk for most of the boys and so further questions were avoided, though Hermione, once she arrived, kept shooting Harry quizzical looks every so often. It was with full bellies and lethargic minds that the residents of Gryffindor Tower headed to their abode, with everyone in a relative state of relaxation. Everyone, except for Neville, Harry noted with concern.

_AN: Hey all! Here is chapter 27 and we have another of my favourite GUK moments: breaking Malfoy's nose. If the boy isn't careful, he's going to end up rather disfigured. Also, here is my shout out to writer Silverbirch and their excellent story one out of nine. If you haven't read it, I suggest you do. Silverbirch has graciously allowed me to borrow certain elements from One out of nine and use them. Any similarities are noted and courtesy of Silverbirch! Also, I do apologize for not responding to every review. I appreciate every one and thank you all who have taken the time to let me know what you think. I will try harder, but I cannot guarantee that I will get everyone. As a side note, Quadpot is the American version of Quidditch. I prefer it and you may look it up if curious. _


	28. Starting Off on the Right Paw

Ch 28. Starting off on the Right Paw

The next morning at breakfast Professor McGonagall passed out their timetables for the year, and for the first time Harry had seen, the old professor made a mistake.

"You've too many classes Hermione," Ron pointed out, his mouth empty for the first minute since food had appeared.

"Never mind, I talked with her about it. I have it all straightened out," Hermione assured them.

As Harry put another sausage in his mouth and reflected that sometimes he wished they made mouse flavoured meat products, a growl from Neville set his hair on end in alarm.

"That arrogant, shite-stain," Neville ground out. "I'll kill him, don't you think I won't."

"He's not worth it Nev. Just riding on daddy's coattails is all," Dean Thomas tried to assure him.

Turning around to see what exactly had drawn Neville's ire, Harry saw the form of Draco Malfoy pantomiming swooning into a dead faint, pointing at Harry, and sniggering loudly with his usual smug expression.

"Is the ferret all that has you bothered?" Harry asked, confused. There was definitely a change in the chubby boy from the year prior. The Neville he knew would never have said anything even if a hundred Malfoys had been raining insults on Neville's Grandmother. The new Neville seemed to be itching for a fight, and even willing to protect the honour of his friends. After a moment's consideration, Harry decided this new Neville could be a lot of fun.

"That fucker's family has no right to breathe free air, like decent Wizards. The parents of half that table should be Kissed straight off. We'd see how jolly they are then." Abruptly Neville stood and strode out of the Great Hall, shooting the entire Slytherin table a very angry glare and earning several rude gestures from older years.

"What crawled up his bum?" Seamus Finnegan asked.

Harry thought about it for a moment. What had gotten the normally passive Longbottom so very agitated? Neville was somehow connected with the break out of Azkaban, Harry remembered, but it was Neville's story to tell and Harry wouldn't divulge any part until Neville said he could.

"Come on you lot, we'll be late if we don't hurry," Harry said to an astonished table. Several people were beginning to wonder if impostors had taken the place of Gryffindor students. Next they'd see Hermione cutting class and drinking Firewhiskey.

As they headed out of the Great Hall, Harry stopped dead in his tracks. "Hermione, where is Crookshanks?"

"Oh, I had to put him in his cage. He simply wouldn't stay in the dormitory. Don't worry, I left him with plenty of food and water. I just hope he gets used to this before too long. I don't want him to be miserable."

"Hermione," Harry growled and then sped off in the opposite direction from their intended destination.

"Where do you suppose he's gone off to?" Ron remarked.

"No idea. Come on though, we really will be late if we don't hurry. I've never been to the north tower, have you?" Hermione asked. Ron shook his head and the two began their first exploratory venture in the name of academics.

Harry, on the other hand, was furious. Didn't Hermione understand why Mog, as Harry had taken to calling the orange feline privately (short for Masterful Orange Gladiator), was so frantic? He was shut up with no way to monitor his human. What if a rampaging horde of tattooed hyenas riding war chariots decided to besiege the castle or an organized legion of mouse-dog-birds swooped in during the middle of the night intent on eliminating supper so that all Hogwarts' students would face starvation? He would be powerless to stop it!

Finally arriving at the base of the steps to the girls' dorm, Harry had taken several steps up the stairs when a loud wailing nearly shattered his eardrums and the stairs themselves seemed to reject Harry's very presence. A moment later he was lying flat on his back and facing a very perplexing problem. How to rescue his brother-in-fur?

"MEROW!" The forceful cry of a caged brother wiped all semblance of rational thought from the boy's mind and he did the first thing that came into his now rapidly spinning consciousness. Drawing his wand and pointing it beneath his chin, Harry yelled "_Expelliarmus" _with as much force as could be mustered.

The impact nearly knocked him unconscious and had him seeing stars. Failing to take into account flight trajectory was another failing of the Kneazle thought process. His body arced nicely, and slammed equally nicely into the stone ceiling, certain to leave a mark. Harry ricochet his way past the enchantments until final impact on the top three stairs where he rolled so quickly up them that even the castle herself seemed to give pause to the ludicrous nature of the boy attempting to bypass her wards.

Only through sheer force of will and the intense cries of a captive prisoner-of-war with a bottle brush tail forced the intrepid adventurer onwards. Finally after an eternity, Harry arrived at the detention facility, housed next to his friend's bed.

'You alright?' Harry asked.

'Yes, why did she shut me in here? Did I do something wrong?' Crookshanks asked, clearly hurt.

'Only to her way of thinking. I'm told she expected you to get used to her absence.'

'Oh,' Crookshanks very squashed face attempted to show a degree of disappointment. It was largely unsuccessful.

'Anyway, if we hurry we can meet her in a bit in the North Tower.'

'Do you know how to get there?'

'Only from the outside, which is convenient because that is how we're going to get there.'

'It's nearly ten minutes down to the ground floor,' Crookshanks replied, clearly wondering how Harry planned on getting them to his human with such little time at their disposal.His question was answered quickly.

Harry scooped up his furry brother and ran to the stairs. Anticipating the shrieking, Harry and Crookshanks slid down the suddenly slick stone to the common room and then bolted up the opposing stairs to the boys' dorm.

Crookshanks watched from his vantage point on the bed as Harry grabbed a long roll of bedding from the trunk and fastened one end around Dean Thomas' bed. Feeling himself scooped up by arms again, the Duke of Orange held tight as they took a running jump out the window. His claws nearly gave way when the slack in the sheets abruptly turned to tension and they were brought hurtling towards the stony face of Hogwarts.

The jarring impact never came though, as the secret agent Kneazles were carried by momentum through a window that both could have sworn wasn't there a moment earlier. Tumbling on the rough stone Harry sat up and quickly surveyed his surroundings, and was struck dumb for a moment. He'd landed in a bath of some sort, and all around him were girls in various states of undress. Harry gawked. They were beautiful, and he privately admitted to himself if he'd not had an appreciation for human females before this certainly cured him of it. "I really didn't think there was a window there," Harry muttered.

Then the screaming started. It seemed these particular girls were not used to a strange boy and his fearless feline friend popping in through previously unnoticed windows. "OUT, OUT, OUT!" Someone screamed and while it pained Harry's endocrine system to leave, his ears thanked him for it. Diving back out the window, both furry protectors hurtled towards the ground and landed unscathed. Crookshanks shot his newest brother from another mother a look that clearly read, 'never do that again.'

"Come on, mate. We've got to beat cheeks 'round that next tower," Harry panted as he and the now dislodged James Dean with paws raced to the far side of the castle.

'Wasn't there an easier way to do this, and why do I get the feeling you're going to make us climb again?' Crookshanks asked plaintively.

"No, and because we are," Harry replied out loud. He always found it easier to speak English during stressful situations, and right now was quite stressful. Harry had no idea how to get to the North Tower from the inside of the castle, but he had climbed mostly up it one day when trying to escape a furious McGonagall near the end of last year. He was mostly sure he could make it to the top… mostly.

Finally rounding on the tower, though, brought him up short. The stones seemed different than he remembered them, easier almost. Wiping the thought from his mind; he, with his boon companion clinging to him, began to climb the tower and within minutes they sat on the ledge of a window, of which Harry assumed to be the right place, as Hermione and Ron were certainly present.

The room smelled of stale flatulence, heavy incense and the slightest touch of alcohol, and Harry grinned wickedly at the astonished expressions on his classmates' faces. The drunk in the front of the room (Harry and Crookshanks both could tell that was where the alcohol seemed to be strongest) continued to prattle on about the inner eye and natural talent. No one was listening, they were all to focused on boy and Kneazle on the window ledge.

"Today we will start with tea leaves," the professor announced.

"Excellent!" Harry exclaimed, finally breaking his silence and drawing the attention of the only person not looking directly at him. He easily pushed himself off the windowsill and bent low, to allow his furry passenger to disembark, with a loud meow and a fierce look. Harry tried not to snicker at Crookshank's obvious display of attempted dominance towards Hermione. Harry had learned one thing in his two and some years as a human; people simply don't understand dominance.

The orange fluff ball paraded gallantly through the mass of stunned students and wrapped himself comfortably around Hermione's feet. Harry contented himself to sit next to Ron.

"Where've you been, mate?" Ron hissed.

"Had to spring the MOG. Can't let a fellow rot away in a cage, you know?" Harry replied easily.

Ron merely shook his head. He'd become strangely used to Harry's odd responses, knew better than to pressure his friend any more. What he wasn't prepared for was Professor Trelawney's next statement.

"My dear girl, I will have to ask you to remove that creature or else I will have to take points from Gryffindor. Cats disturb the focus of the inner eye," Trelawney said evenly, glaring directly at Hermione.

"But Professor, I didn't even bring him here! He kind of followed me," she protested in return.

"Five points from Gryffindor, young lady, and you will remove that creature. NOW!" The batty old professor's voice had taken a steel edge to it that none of her students had ever heard before. This woman would not be disobeyed, and Hermione knew it.

There was one minor point that everyone failed to take into consideration. "CATS?" Harry yelled with outrage. "I beg your pardon, _professor,_ but this is a fine Kneazle specimen and it is hardly fair to insult his current standing because of the mating habits of his parents. One would no more disparage a centaur because they happen to resemble half a horse. I would think a woman in your position would know better than to make such rash generalizations. In my experience, Kneazles are excellent at predicting the future," Harry finished.

He was fuming. How dare that woman insult his friend that way? Half-Kneazles were more common than either side would like to admit, but as it usually fell to the Kneazle pride to raise the offspring (all Kneazles know mother Felius Domesticus are notoriously unreliable) they felt the burden of raising the extra kittens that were sired from the pairing, whether the Pride mother was ready or not.

"My dear boy, your name is…" Trelawney trailed off.

"Harry Potter," he glared balefully back.

"Mr. Potter, I hardly think it matters what the feline in question is. The fact is well documented that magical or not, cats have a profoundly negative effect on the inner eye. I suspect that your close association may have irreparably tainted you, beyond all hope. I am truly sorry."

That did it. Cats upsetting the inner eye? That was irritating. Insulting Kneazles and comparing them to mere house cats; that was galling. But, HE… WAS… NOT… TAINTED! A rage Harry had never felt before began to form inside his chest and before he knew it, his hand was at his newest gift. The quarter second he delayed may have prevented bloodshed that day, as he felt another hand on top.

"She's not worth it, Harry. Just take the orange bugger and go. Maybe you can switch to something else?" Ron's powerful voice and hand, providing resistance stayed Harry's killing rage. With a shout, Harry turned on his heel and walked down the splintered wreck of a trap door that served as the poor stair case to the tower of intolerance. Somewhere in his mind it registered that someone should really get that fixed. Harry never realised it wasn't broken before his near homicidal rage.

Ron and Hermione looked startled at each other and down at their now broken teacups. Harry had just thrown a tantrum, over something they couldn't even understand. The most frightening part was the sheer rage he seemed to be displaying over such an inconsequential point. It was to the point that he had somehow managed to release a magical pulse strong enough to shatter most of the fine china in the room and blown the trapdoor off its hinges… and he never even seemed to notice.

"Prrt!" Crookshanks finally broke the silence as if to say, 'don't worry, he'll be sorted out by morning.' Hermione began absentmindedly petting the orange ball of fluff, until the professor once again interrupted.

"You really must get rid of that cat, Miss Granger."

oOo

Harry hit the grounds at a dead run. If he didn't get out of that castle he was going to break something or hurt someone with no cause at all, and that just wouldn't do. He might get detention and then be too tired to frolic.

How dare she? What did that crazy loony bat know, anyway? Finally slowing down at the tree line, Harry satisfied himself with punching trees to relieve his anger and growling loudly. So intent was he, that he failed to notice his company.

"Harry, what in blazes are yeh doin'?" came the rough voice of Hagrid.

Whirling on his heel and nearly toppling over, Harry faced his friend. "Nothing," he said shortly.

"Doesn't look like nothin' teh me," Hagrid replied. "Why don't yeh come with me and have a cuppa' tea?"

Harry grumbled, but as he was too angry to hunt properly and class wouldn't be for awhile yet, he conceded and followed the much larger man to his house.

After the tea had been poured and Hagrid had supplied himself with something 'a wee bit stronger' the bearded gamekeeper sat back in his chair and regarded his young friend with interest. "What's botherin' yeh, Harry?"

Harry took a sip of tea and gazed out the window for a moment as he formulated his response. "That old bitch in the tower told me I was tainted from cats."

"Trelawney said that?" Hagrid asked, amazed. "You didn' have a cat with yeh, did yeh?"

Harry nodded his head mutely.

"Well, there's half yer problem, 'Arry! Everyone knows that Trelawney doesn't want nothin' teh do with cats. Argus reckons she had a run-in as a girl or sommat. Now, yeh were in class and she said that to yeh, and it upset yeh so much that you stormed out?"

Harry nodded again.

"Hmmm… you've got yer mum's temper, I'll say that much."

"What do you mean, Hagrid?"

"Well, yer mum could raise a right storm of fury when she was upset about somethin', usually what yer dad or his friends did," Hagrid smiled fondly at the memory, and despite himself, Harry found for the first time he was a little intrigued about the molly everyone said birthed him. He still knew that his real parents weren't dead, but he felt a little pull towards the mum and dad that did die for him.

"What were they like, Hagrid?" Harry asked timidly. He wasn't sure he wanted to know now, after all. If he knew then that would make it real and if it was real, would that make his Mum any less his mum and Father no longer the tom he should strive to be?

Harry's fearful musings were interrupted by a forceful explosion of words from the large man's equally large mouth. "The best, Harry, really the best. Now yer dad, he was somethin' else. Could sneak up and snatch the whiskers of Mrs. Norris if he'd the inclination, and a finer Chaser I haven't seen here since. He and his friends were always up to somethin' that would cause a laugh. Yer mum though, she never did take to kindly to it, and teh tell yeh the truth there were a few times I didn't either. O' course I knew yer dad the best. Yer mum was always polite and from what they said she got top marks in all her subjects, top of the class Lily Evans was, but yer dad was a man a bit after me own heart. Loved the animals and a bit of trouble he did. Not that I love trouble, mind you, but I do fancy a bit of fun now and again. I remember leading yer dad to the front steps of the castle same as I do you. Clear night it was and though the other firs' years were star struck, yer dad took it all in cool as ice, even when the ghosts come through the walls. Just stood there for a momen' and then said 'pardon me gentlemen, but I do believe you've forgotten your pigment and we simply won't be able to accommodate you tonight.' I never laughed so hard in my life."

Harry found himself slowly enthralled with the stories Hagrid told. He could almost see them, but for some reason everyone he pictured had two triangular ears and a long fluffy tail. Harry shrugged mentally, stranger things had happened.

"Great Merlin, look at the time!" Hagrid exclaimed. "I have teh get ready for my first lesson and I suspect yer 'bout done with Divination."

"I'm not going back," Harry growled mutinously.

"Whether yeh are or not, you best be off to yer next class."

Smacking himself in the face, Harry picked up his bag and raced back across the green of the grounds. Cousin McGonagall didn't take kindly to tardiness.

Unfortunately, Harry was a minute late, but he didn't worry about it as Cousin McGonagall was perched on her desk. "Sorry I'm late, Professor. I had a bit of a mistake," Harry rushed out. It wasn't really lying was it? After all, it was a mistake to go to the old bat's tower. The other students looked at him strangely. Until Ron spoke up.

"You feeling alright, mate? There was a note on the door that said she'd be a bit late. So we came in and sat down with only this cat."

Harry shook his head. They really didn't remember? She'd done the same trick their first year. "She's the tabby, Ron. She pulled the same trick the first year." And very suddenly there the Transfiguration professor was with something that almost might be mistaken for a small smile. "Very good memory Mr. Potter, five points to Gryffindor." The smile disappeared as soon as it formed. "What is wrong? My Animagus transformation never has failed to impress before," she said quietly.

"We're sorry, Professor," Hermione piped up. "But there was a bit of… a shock in Divination and I think we're all just a bit stunned to tell you the truth."

"Professor Trelawney predicted that someone would die again, did she?" McGonagall sounded less than impressed.

"Yes, Professor, among other things," Lavender contributed.

"I see…" An expression of confusion was clearly forming on the professor's face, but she valiantly pushed past her lack of understanding to try and lend comfort to her young charges. "To be fair, Professor Trelawney has predicted the death of a student every year and it has yet to happen. Divination is an extremely imperfect science and as such must be taken with certain skepticism. Even if the predictions are accurate, understanding them is difficult at best. I would leave your fears at the door of that tower for the moment, until you have seen verifiable fact that the predictions in question are in the process of becoming true."

Much of the class seemed visibly relieved at this, but the excitable voice of Lavender Brown popped up once more, "But that wasn't all, Harry." She was forcibly interrupted by a kick from Seamus Finnegan and an overly theatrical hush that Harry could hear plain as a rabbit bolting through briars.

"Shush! He's right there. You can corner him after."

McGonagall decided not to press despite her obvious interest and instead continued with their lesson for the day. They were beginning to transfigure objects to animals with today's lesson being that of transforming a dinner plate into a turtle. Harry's mind was only mostly focused on the professor. He kept being distracted by a whispered argument in the back of the room between Seamus and Lavender. She apparently didn't like the Irish lad's foot assault.

"Now, you may begin. At the end of class we will grade your work. Now, a rule I've had for some time will be put into effect this year. As third years, you have a great deal more flexibility with your education and you are beginning the road to adulthood. As such, I believe the coddling stops now. I will be expecting a great deal more from you as you approach both your OWL year and onwards in preparation for NEWTs. However, with that added responsibility comes more privilege. Should you manage to satisfactorily complete the assignment prior to the conclusion of class, the remainder of the time will be yours to do with as you choose."

McGonagall appraised the effect her words had on her students. The arguing twits in the back had stopped arguing, Ronald Weasley had straightened up and even Cousi… ere… Potter had managed to look a little more focused. She smiled grimly on the inside. What she didn't tell them is that only two wizards had ever managed to accomplish this during her tenure and they earned a grand total of five minutes free time each. She allowed herself one tiny external smile as she began demonstrating the spell for today.

Five minutes later, Harry was looking very perplexed. There had to be something defective about his plate, which was now a turtle. Harry stared at it for another moment then raised his hand. "Yes, Mr. Potter? Do you have a question?" McGonagall's voice carried from across the room where she had been showing the proper way to grip the wand for this particular spell.

"May I be excused now?" Harry asked.

"Do you feel ill, Mr. Potter?"

"No, I'm finished. I think," Harry said quietly, but the words seemed to boom in his ears. It was as if the entire classroom was caught in a spell itself. Everyone stopped and stared at Harry's desk, upon which sat very comfortably a perfect turtle.

"How could you do that?" Hermione gasped. Harry merely shrugged, it hadn't seemed that hard.

A moment later the Transfiguration professor held the turtle aloft for further inspection and after a solid minute of searching, found no blemish to correct. She reluctantly sighed and said, "Very well, Mr. Potter. The rest of the time is yours to do with as you will."

"YEAHHH!" Harry whooped with joy and scooped up his books, doing a small happy dance about the front of the room, and without another thought leapt to the window sill and plunged himself out.

"SEX ME SIDEWAYS!" was the last thing anyone heard as the force of gravity took over and our intrepid hero plunged inexorably towards the unyielding earth.

"He's really got to stop doing that, hasn't he?" Ron said to no one in particular as he went back to trying to turn his plate into something more resembling an amphibian.

oOo

Although his fall left something to be desired, Harry was now happily prancing about the forest floor reuniting with the entire Pride. The mollies and young toms had come out to play and even the Pride Mother had emerged to scold him for being too thin. She gave him two voles and a healthy field mouse and wouldn't release him from her icy stare until he'd downed the lot. Igglebum happily regaled him with all they missed during the summer and showed three medium-sized exoskeletons the Pride had 'collected' from their unwilling previous owners. Hobart had his revenge.

Harry happily regaled them with his own stories, leaving out several crucial pieces of information but offering to introduce them to Crookshanks later. They all seemed very enthused… especially several young and impressionable mollies.

They frolicked and played, enjoying the return of their prodigal son and even Mum managed to extract the promise to bring her two legged daughter around when there was the time. Finally, Harry managed to notice the time and bid his hasty farewell, managing to gather up his strewn books at the edge of the forest and catch the start of Hagrid's first class as a proper teacher. Harry was so excited; he was bouncing on the balls of his feet and doing small circles in place. A smile plastered across his face.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Neville asked, somewhat distractedly. It was plain that he wasn't looking forward to dealing with things that could bite back and would much prefer to be in his greenhouse once more. Unfortunately, Herbology wasn't that day.

"Oh isn't this going to be great? The best class ever! We'll have adventures and romps and maybe you'll finally learn to talk to them," Harry nearly shouted. He was obviously over the moon. Even his fellow Gryffindors were beginning to look at him strangely as he prattled on, never mind the disgusted looks from some of the more 'proper' Slytherin students.

Finally, Hagrid emerged onto the scene and immediately Harry's whole demeanour became more serious. "Get a move on now, a real treat for a lesson," Hagrid boomed and motioned for all the students to follow. For one solitary moment, Harry's hopes soared as he thought Hagrid was going to lead them into the forest, but they were quickly dashed as he lead them around the side of the hut and a few minutes later they were standing at an empty paddock.

"Now, the firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books-"

"How?" drawled Malfoy coldly.

"Eh?" Hagrid said.

"How do we open our books?" Malfoy repeated, brining out his text book which had been bound with a length of rope.

"Hasn'- hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said a crestfallen Hagrid.

"What page, Professor?" All eyes suddenly turned to Harry, who held unbound in his hand his own copy of the _Monster Book of Monsters_.

"Thirty four," replied Hagrid, looking a little confused at the stillness of the book in his student's hand. Harry carefully raised the book to within a few inches of his face and growled a deep rumbling growl from his chest. The book opened with no manual assistance to the desired page. Harry lessened his growl and gave one loud trill. He then looked up eagerly; ready to begin learning from the master of monsters himself.

"How did he do that?" came the whispers from around the gathered group of students as they all examined their own bound books. Even Hagrid looked amazed.

"How did yeh do that one, Harry? They're not supposed to stay open like that until yeh stroke em… You figured it out didn't yeh?" Hagrid looked positively joyful. Harry looked confused.

"I didn't stroke anything, Hagrid. The proper application of force and fear lets the book know that you are the boss. I simply demonstrated I was his bookend."

"What do yeh mean, Harry?"

"I suppose in dog terms," Harry began, casting a somewhat indulgent look at Fang, "you could say I exerted dominance and demonstrated I was pack leader."

Hagrid looked thoughtful and deftly took a book from Neville's hands and handed it over to the boy prodigy. "Now, firs' I'm goin' the show yeh how yer suppos' teh do it, and then I want yeh teh show me how you did it." Hagrid took the book from Malfoy's hands and removed the rope restraint and swiftly stroked the spine. The book lay open as any good one should. Harry reflected that while that was a good idea, he could see the defiance in the pages and as soon as Hagrid had his back turned, the book was as likely to lie still as it was to destroy pyramid of fire-whiskey bottles the large man had been secretly building in his hut since the end of last year.

"Now you," Hagrid intoned, and just like at the book store, Harry ripped off the spell-o-tape restraint, let out a roar that under normal circumstances would have seen several Slytherins commit offences against their undergarments, slammed the book to the ground and shook it once again in his teeth. The book did not try and snap again.

Expressions in the class ranged from wary to downright fearful and disgusted. The Gryffindors seemed to take it a bit more in stride, but the Slytherin girls and Malfoy were wearing expressions of pure disgust.

"Care to piss on it too, Potter? Just in case you haven't marked you territory?" Malfoy hissed.

Harry rocked back on his heels for a moment. Malfoy certainly had a point. He hadn't done that with his book. Would it ruin the pages? Would it make the book an outcast among its peers? He'd have to deliberate on this a bit more.

Hagrid was beaming, though. "Twenty points ter Gryffindor for outstandin' use of logic with animals. Now, I want the rest of you teh all see what he did there. He dominated the book like a dog might. It's good to know how the animals work in the wild. It is all about instincts. Now today, I've got a bit o' a special treat for you lot. " Hagrid beamed and marched away.

"That oaf teaching classes, this place has gone to the dogs," Malfoy sneered.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron snarled.

"Ohh… wouldn't want to offend the poorest blood-traitors in England now would we?" Malfoy shot back.

Harry glared, trying to hold his temper in. Getting points docked for abusing vermin on his first day wouldn't impress anyone. Especially not after winning twenty points already, on the flip side he did make a pledge that points wouldn't get in the way of smiting things… CRACK!

The distinct sound of flesh impacting bone was resounding and Harry was drawn out of his retaliatory contemplation. He looked up and saw Malfoy holding his right eye and glaring out his left from his position on the ground. Neville… timid Neville was standing over his hated adversary with both hands bunched tightly into balls. Crabbe and Goyle were both advancing in a menacing manner, everyone noted with concern.

"Come on you poofsters! There's bloody well more where that came from!" Neville shouted.

Harry moved swiftly and surely behind his compatriot and crouched low, preparing to spring. "Please! Don't fight, we could all get in very serious trouble," Hermione admonished in a higher-pitched voice than regular.

"Shut it, Granger. No one asked for your polluted opinion," came the scathing voice of Daphne Greengrass.

Harry noticed movement in his peripheral vision and assumed Ron was in it now, too. There was a general pause, just a moment or two while the rational sides of their brains were turned off and all the boys tapped into their more primal natures and girls debated whether to get involved or not. For Harry this took far less time than everyone else and when he saw Malfoy's hand twitch towards his wand, Neville's backup suddenly became the vanguard of the assault.

In seconds it was chaos. Fists, spells and insults were being thrown equally, and despite their slight numerical inferiority, the Gryffindors were holding their own. Harry winced as he felt a hex brush his side and laughed out loud at the girlish scream Crabbe emitted as Crookshanks clawed his way up the large boy's leg and sunk his sharpened claws into his foe's poorly protected groin.

"What's goin' on 'ere?" Hagrid bellowed. As easily as the ruckus had started the students suddenly pulled away and ceased all hostile activity. Unfortunately, Crookshanks hadn't gotten that particular memo and was still firmly entrenched in Crabbe's tender manly areas. Goyle reached over a meaty hand with surprising quickness and captured the offending feline by the scruff.

Both creatures stood looking at each other dumbly for a moment and then with vicious speed and cruel intent both Harry and Hermione watched with horror as he slammed the Orange Duke's head against a convenient rock three times. Crookshanks didn't rise again.

"NO!" Hermione shrieked, as Harry's voice felt constricted to the point of being inoperative.

"What was that fer?" Hagrid demanded, his attention now focused sternly on the cat-bashing Slytherin.

The Gryffindors seemed to be in a state of shock. To cruelly kill an animal like that seemed low, even for Slytherins. Harry on the other hand felt numb. He was so numb, in fact, that until many hours later he had a great deal of difficulty figuring out what happened next.

Disregarding all else, he dashed forward and with strength born of desperation pushed Goyle aside with one hand, scooped up his Kneazle pal in the other and dashed towards the only thing that made any sense what so ever to his rattled mind, the herd of Hippogriffs Hagrid was holding.

"Help me," Harry begged as he ran.

'Why? What are you to us? Were you bigger we would be prey and you the hunter, Cat-man.' One of them said. Harry hardly realised they were talking at all.

"He's got to get help. He was defending his human, and he's not bigger so you can shove off all your notions of us eating you! He's still breathing. There is still hope," Harry raged. He was only a few feet from the paddock now and could hear Hagrid's voice droning distantly in the background.

'I'll take them father. It is the right and chivalrous thing to do. We princes of the air are nobler than to refuse a creature of lesser dominion our mercy. I am Sir Gordon, and we will take your brother to help. You must free me first, however.'

"_Reducto!_" Harry shouted and tumbled over his feet as he dodged the small pieces of shrapnel flying through the air that were formerly Gordon's collar.

"'Arry! What in blazes are yeh doin'? Bad, Buckbeak, bad! Harry, yeh can't jus' take off with im like that!" Hagrid shouted as he struggled to contain the remaining eleven hippogriffs.

Gordon swung his head low and Harry mounted with a nearly instinctual ease, cradling the unmoving Crookshanks to his chest. Leaning forward as the powerful wings pumped, Harry felt the solid earth slide away from him once more, but this wasn't anything like a broom.

"Creeeahh!" came simultaneous screeches that made Harry flatten himself to his mount and look around with a certain amount of trepidation. Gordon merely smiled. On their right and left flanks flew a hippogriff each.

'Brothers, it is good for we princes to act in the noblest of common goals today and aid a fellow chivalrous knight, though he be from a different realm.' Gordon cried.

'It is good for we brothers to aid in the defence and upkeep of chivalry by aiding those that defend it themselves. The orange warrior defended his lady without a second thought. Would that more men of strong constitution and courageous might be so inclined to defend the weak and strike a noble blow for truth and justice,' proclaimed the eagle horse to the left.

'It is wise for us to aid those that may one day aid our kingdom, brothers. We have acted in true form to our station today,' agreed the right flank.

'Now,' Gordon said, addressing Harry. 'Where are we headed, good sir knight?'

Harry was drawn up short at that. He was a child of the night, his Mum had always said that, but what was a surknight? Maybe last night? He'd ask Hermione when she came to visit her cat.

"Hospital, over there," he said, pointing to an open window.

'That is too small for us, can you jump?'

"It'll open, trust me. Once we're inside, we'll be safe. So thank you all very much but I do believe our escort may return to your Pride." Harry had no idea why he felt that, but it just seemed right. All the flying hippogriffs gave one another worried glances. However they had promised to help a fellow knight achieve the rescue of a beloved comrade and that was enough to bond them.

'Gawain, Robin, leave off once we're inside. He's right. We've likely upset the kindly man with the ferrets and we do want more ferrets.' All three agreed as they plunged into a steep dive. Harry thought for just a moment that perhaps his feeling had been wrong and the Castle would allow them to crash headfirst into her stone ramparts, but where there was a tiny window a moment before, now stood a vast entrance. It was even enough to make Madam Pomfrey shriek with surprise as Harry, Gordon and Crookshanks all landed in her immaculate hospital and upset at least half the beds. Harry turned briefly to give a thank you goodbye wave to the other hippogriffs, and then with equal speed rushed his precious orange cargo into the good Matron's arms.

"You have to help him, Madam. Please you must!" Harry begged.

_AN: Firstly another shout out to Silverbirch. Thanks so much, and it is due to him that the term 'molly' has entered the story. The female cat/kneazle would be called a molly if not the pride mother. A tom is a male. I'm sorry that the updates have been slow, but my time for writing has been again drastically reduced. I actually have to focus on work and school. Thanks so much to everyone sticking with this despite the ever increasing length between updates. I'm also thinking maybe for my next story a 'Harry raised by goblins or house elves' plotline. Inspired by the story 'building bridges'. Let me know what you think. It wouldn't be for awhile yet, but I'm thinking it could be a good one!_


	29. A Longbottom in the Middle

Ch 29 A Longbottom in the middle

The next several days passed in a blurry haze. Crookshanks had survived, barely, according to Madam Pomfrey. Harry was also forced to try and explain why there was now a hole in the wall of the hospital that was currently being patched and how precisely he'd managed to ride a hippogriff without any prior instruction.

Much to McGonagall's frustration Harry's only answer was a series of repeated 'I don't knows' and 'beats my whiskers'. So in the end, they ended up settling for docking forty points from Harry and giving the entire Care of Magical Creatures class detentions for a week. Harry spent his free time in vigil outside the Hospital wing as Madam Pomfrey had insisted that one cat was enough at a time.

Hermione was understandably distraught, Ron was trying to be as sympathetic as he could given the situation, and Neville was looking to kill someone. At least he certainly was raging enough to do so. Harry had returned recently from his vigil and tromped gloomily into the common room, settling himself next to Ginny. The entire gang was up much earlier than expected this morning, which would have surprised Harry on any other day. Not today, though, today was another day of anxiousness for everyone.

"How's he doing?" Ginny asked.

"No change yet. He's woken up, but shouldn't move much. They're not sure what kind of permanent damage he's going to have, but I think he'll be alright in the end," Harry replied despondently. "That sexing bastard, I'll get him for this."

"Harry, one question for you?" Ron piped up.

"No, Ron, I don't know what I'm going to do yet, but rest assured it is going to be exceedingly painful."

"Not what I was going to ask, mate," Ron replied sharply. "What I was going to ask is… Why the hell do you always say 'sex' like it is some kind of a curse word? I mean you go on about 'sex this' and 'sex him' or my personal favourite, 'sex me running'. What exactly does that mean? Really, why can't you just say 'fuck' like a normal bloke."

Hermione stared slack jawed at her red-haired friend. Did Ron really make an observation not related to Quidditch or food? She was so gobsmacked, she forgot to reprimand the boy for his language. Based on the stares from the rest of the group it seemed similar thoughts were going through everyone's mind.

"It's a synonym, Ron. I thought you'd know that. I looked it up, fuck means the same thing. I don't know how to conjugate sex yet, but I'm working on it."

"Harry, you beat the pants of Merlin's sagging arse cheeks," Neville said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh… I'm supposed to infer that is a good thing?"

"No, it just is," Neville replied.

"We've breakfast in a few minutes," Ron mentioned, giving the situation some semblance of normality. They all nodded and trooped gloomily down to the Great Hall, where anyone's assumptions that things couldn't get any worse were quickly dashed. Someone had done a rather interesting piece of charm work on the Gryffindor banner. So now instead of a majestic lion protecting their food, it featured an anorexic house cat being repeatedly strangled by a giant green snake.

Hermione was so upset she nearly left the breakfast hall, Ginny and many of the other Gryffindors were raging. Harry's blind fury was stopped suddenly by a rather calm sounding Neville.

"Is that what it looked like, Harry?" Neville asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Is that what what looked like?"

"The basilisk."

"Yeah, I suppose a bit. Before it was crushed, though. I didn't see much of it, to tell the truth."

"I can't believe it. They mock not only the senseless attack of a defenceless creature, but the near death of two of our own?"

"Four if you think about it. What is all this about, Neville?" Ron said, coming to stand behind them. "I'm as hacked off as the next bloke, but what are you going to do? Not like you can just point your wand at the Slytherin table and say 'take it back or I'll hex your bollocks off'. Come on, mate. Just have some breakfast and forget about it. Flitwick is already looking at it. The Snakes aren't that clever. He'll have the whole thing sorted before we finish second helpings."

Neville gave Ron a curious look and then strode decisively towards the Slytherin table and the back of a loudly laughing Draco Malfoy.

"Isis furry… you had to go and say it, didn't you, Ron?" Harry said exasperatedly. "Nothing for it now. We've got to keep them safe."

"Right, wouldn't want Neville to get hurt," Ron said quickly coming to the same conclusion as his friend.

"Wasn't talking about Neville, Ron. I think he might kill someone."

Neville, however wasn't quite bent on killing someone… yet. Although if pressed he was sure he could produce a mean Cruciatus. Malfoy was related… so were Nott and Goyle. Those bastards could see what it was like to go visit once a week and know they'd never get better. Neville stopped the train of thought right there. It wouldn't do to go over reacting with this.

He strode boldly to the turned back of Malfoy, who's only clue to the next happenings were the confused stares of several of his classmates. Neville reached out a hand and clamped it firmly on the blond boy's shoulder and using the proper amount of leverage dragged him to the ground. The resounding smack of flesh hitting stone was quickly followed by a hoarse gasping as Neville's knee pressed painfully on the throat of his adversary.

"Take it back, I know you know how," Neville whispered dangerously, pressing his now drawn wand in between Draco's eyes.

"Don… know… wha, GRKK!" Malfoy's half-hearted response was cut off as the knee was dug deeper

"Don't you lie to me. If you can't, then you know who can. I want it down before lunch or you're going to be the last heir of the House of Malfoy. Do you understand?" Neville moved his wand to the right, slightly and muttered a spell that even Harry had trouble catching, but the effect was instant. A three inch wide hole was dug out of the floor of the castle.

"Let him go, Mr. Longbottom," the uncharacteristically tense voice of Dumbledore.

Neville's glare intensified for a moment and then he stood up, putting his wand away. "I should think that was worth two weeks detention, Mr. Longbottom. You will also accompany me to my study now," Dumbledore said in a slightly calmer voice.

Neville's cold eyes met equally fierce blue. "Two weeks, well worth it." With that final pronouncement, Neville followed the Headmaster out of the Great Hall.

"Something's different about him," Ron noted. Everyone else at the table nodded.

oOo

Potions class was unbearable as usual, but Harry had suffered through it stoically, with a distracted mind. Professor Snape had taken the customary points off the Gryffindors, but had left off when not even Hermione seemed to respond much. It was with a sigh of brief relief that they finally left the dungeons and headed for their next appointment. One Harry had been dreading since he realized what it was, Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Harry was stifling every natural instinct he had. Sitting through Defence class would be torture, with the wolf-man teaching. Harry was currently studying the man's movements for any tell tale signs that he was going to start disembowelling Harry's classmates. Thus far Professor Lupin had managed to restrain himself from any overtly hostile action, but Harry was staying alert.

The professor had informed them today would be a practical lesson and the class was led to an unused room several doors down. After dealing with a particularly pesky Peeves, they settled into the meat of the lesson, which left Harry in his current predicament. He couldn't very well pay attention to what the professor was saying and watch subtle movement cues as to when he might pounce and begin to rend the helpless Gryffindors limb from limb. So, Harry settled for a half-hearted attempt at listening about something called a boggart.

"Miss Patil, would you be so kind as to help with the demonstration?" Professor Lupin, asked cordially. The bastard was smooth, Harry had to admit that. "Now, what scares you the most?"

"Mummies, sir." Parvati replied, softly.

"Ah, I see. The cursed kind, with blood and reanimation still present?" Parvati nodded. "Well, here is what I'm going to need you to do…" Lupin then further explained the boggart and how it would take the form of what scared someone the most, and the only effective counter was laughter.

Harry's mind immediately began to wander. What scared him the most? Immediately it jumped to a giant mouse-dog-bird with big pointy teeth, but then a new and vague image began to form. Something far more sinister, and evil. Something, Harry feared, might frighten the entire class making laughter a totally ineffective countermeasure.

"Seamus!" Lupin shouted. Harry was drawn out of his stupor suddenly. Parvati had succeeded apparently and now the Wolf was putting the rest of the class through the paces. Each student in turn jumped in as they were called, but Lupin seemed to be avoiding Harry. This puzzled the Kneazle-boy and Harry hated being puzzled.

"Neville, go!" Lupin shouted, but Neville delayed a moment, his previous reluctant attitude seemingly not totally vanquished. Lupin's eyes widened with fear as instead the one student he'd hoped to avoid participating jumped closest to the boggart and then froze. Lupin heard snickering from the rest of the class, but was a little too stunned to fully contemplate what he was seeing.

Harry stood frozen with stark terror. Most in the class would have expected Voldemort, or a giant dog, but before him stood the deepest fear of all Kneazles: a giant rocking chair with four bladed rockers on each side, ensuring that whatever Kneazle dared approach would lose paw and tail. Such a thing was usually described by the older mollies to kittens when they wouldn't go to sleep. It was traumatizing enough for most kittens at the time that many refused to leave the den for the next day. Harry never took such things seriously, but to see one in the flesh… His mind froze, but years of natural survival instinct took over.

Hermione gasped, Ron stood slack jawed and several of his other classmates screamed when, in one fluid motion, Harry drew his new favourite weapon, gripped the blade and gave a powerful toss, just like he and Sebastian had practiced. The knife glowed briefly just before impact and drove the rocking chair into the door of the cupboard from which it came. A wailing shriek was let out and the boggart swiftly transformed into various prior forms before exploding in a shower of bright orange goo.

"That was… certainly unorthodox, Mr. Potter," Lupin said slowly. It appeared the teacher was in as much a state of shock as his students.

Another minute later, and a concerned McGonagall and an irate Filch burst through the classroom door. "Professor Lupin, what happened?" McGonagall's voice seemed to shake everyone out of their trance.

"Harry here, has found a new way to deal with a boggart. Unfortunately, it seems to be rather messy. I wouldn't recommend it in the future," Lupin said with a small smile.

"I see. Very well then, Professor." McGonagall nodded briefly and walked out of the class. Filch began grumbling and headed out as well. Something about a 'hot mop'.

"Well, as we seem to have no further boggart related material for today, I would say that class is over for now," Lupin concluded and everyone began to file out slowly. As Harry went to retrieve his knife, a hand touched his shoulder. Harry stiffened instantly.

"You'll remove that paw, Wolf, or lose it. I don't take kindly to familiarity outside my Pride," Harry growled as he wrenched Sebastian's gift loose from the wardrobe. The offending hand was swiftly pulled back.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter. You'll not address a teacher that way, ever." Lupin's voice was cold and as Harry turned around student and professor locked eyes. There was a trace of anger, Harry was sure of that, but there also looked to be… sadness? A tricky wolf plot, Harry was sure of it. He'd get no sympathy from any Kneazle. "Now move along before I lose my temper," Lupin concluded.

There it was. Harry could spot a threat any day of the week. Locking eyes once more, the green orbs hardened and Harry ground out, "Don't threaten me, professor. I've killed snakes bigger than this room and torn a professor's throat out. Wolf or no, you'd need your whole pack to bring me off my paws." Angrily the teen strode out of the room leaving a very confused Remus Lupin.

Lupin had been called 'wolf' before, when someone had found out his secret. That his closest friend's son should be so intolerant when his father was so open wounded the older man more than he could say, but how had the boy figured it out? Moreover, everyone knew that by and large werewolves were solitary types or formed together in loose bands for protection, but nothing in the way of a 'pack' was ever established. What was going on in the young Potter's mind? Where had the boy been these past years? So many questions and no answers. Harry would need to be studied, and Remus Lupin was a patient man.

Harry on the other hand was frustrated and angry. Spending the rest of the day moody did nothing to improve dinner and it was only after he grabbed Ginny for a bout of forest romping that his spirits began to improve.

"Do you think you can do it, Sparkplug?" Harry asked, as they snuck out of the tower, towards the Entrance Hall.

"I'm sure I can. Harry, do you think they'll recognise me? I mean, I don't want to upset the kittens." Ginny bit her lip worriedly.

"Nah, they might be a bit confused at first, but no worries. They'll figure it out eventually."

Buoyed by Harry's assertions, Ginny sat down to try and concentrate on the change. Nearly an hour later, she was getting frustrated. "I just can't seem to do it, Paws," she grumbled a little too loudly.

"Just try and focus, I don't really know what to say beyond that," Harry replied.

"Prrrt?" The musical lilt of a feline drew both students' attention and they looked down to see the lamp-like eyes of Mrs. Norris. She smirked as only she could, as if to tell them 'you're in for it now'.

Ginny felt desperate. She knew McGonagall didn't put up with any foolishness from her students and her low marks from the previous year meant that she was on a shorter leash than most with her Head of House. Ginny remembered Harry's hundred point fiasco from the previous year and desperation turned into full out panic. "Leave me alone!" she yelled, but it didn't come out as a yell. Instead there was a thunderous roar that shook dust loose from the beams and woke every inhabitant of Gryffindor tower. Mrs. Norris promptly fainted.

Harry marvelled at the quick change of his Sparkplug. She was a wonderful human, but magnificent as a lion. He hoped his growth spurt kicked in soon and he could be equally as impressive. The roar was a nice touch, too, even if it did leave his ears ringing. Her great lioness eyes met his green ones and conveyed one word, 'Help!' Harry changed equally quickly and before the portraits were even fully aware of what was going on, both felines were making a mad dash down stairs and out the doors, towards the Forbidden Forest.

'Mum, come meet your kitten!' Harry mewed, loud enough for the whole pride to hear. They had traversed the empty grounds without being spotted, and were now just outside the Pride's den. Several of the older toms came out to investigate with Father and all seemed to have a similar reaction.

"MEROWW!" Three jumped vertically, and the other two stood stock still. They were apparently not used to having a lioness so close to their den.

'Flatten your fur. You're acting like a bunch of scared kittens. You've all met her before,' Harry smiled gently, and as soon as he said that the toms all stopped their caterwauling and began to sniff. Tentatively and at a distance at first, but then slowly closer until the newcomer's identity could be confirmed. Then the party was on.

Questions were being asked so quickly, Ginny could hardly respond. Mother finally brought the now older kittens out and they romped all over Ginny's deep red fur. It took Harry nearly another hour to finally explain to everyone what had happened.

'We must go hunting to celebrate!' a calico named Corelle declared. The rest of the Pride took half a second to agree and another five minutes to weather the Mother's warnings about staying away from Acromantula and cleaning their whiskers after the kill.

'I've never been so excited!' Ginny exclaimed. Unfortunately, her enthusiasm couldn't be contained and another rather loud roar escaped, earning her irritated looks from many in the hunting party.

'Wait! She can't hunt yet, she's never learned,' Harry exclaimed. In all the excitement, he'd totally forgotten that basic point.

'Oh my,' Igglebum said, softly. 'Then we'll have to give her the quick course, won't we?'

Ginny, it seemed was a natural. She picked up stalking easily, lying motionless without problem and her pounce was flawless. Even the Pride Mum was impressed. The only problem was her enormous size prevented her from joining in stalking the regular prey. It didn't prevent her from wrestling her newest family unit. Although due to the mass difference it was rather akin to Andre the Giant wrestling forty midgets.

Ginny stopped suddenly when she heard Harry yelp. 'What's wrong?' she asked, spinning around to see to see Harry face to face in a serious discussion with several Unicorns. Unfortunately, it the conversation seemed rather one sided. She could understand Harry, but the Unicorns merely emitted a series of nickers and whinnies.

'Really? Just the dog, then, or more?'

Nicker.

'How many more?'

'A little rat faced man? What did he smell like?'

Whinny.

'Why would he be here? What's that to do with Neville? I don't understand, but thank you for the warning. Keep your foals out of danger and we'll keep the kittens protected. If we find anything, we'll kill it sure as pooping.'

Nicker, whinny, nicker, nicker, snort.

Harry let out a small chuckle and then bowed and headed over to the Pride Father where after a short consultation, their visit was abruptly ended.

'All kittens to the den. Mollies, defence formation right whiskers, toms, patrol formation dew-claw.' The woods were suddenly a flurry of activity as mollies herded their younger siblings into the den and the toms split up into several teams and softly left the area.

'Do you need us?' Harry asked.

Pride Mum shrieked, 'Certainly not, young tom. You see that kitten safely to your own den and be careful! I'll not have you eaten by wild manticores or rocking chairs.'

Harry nodded and with a small shake of his head, Ginny knew that tonight was over.

'What was all that about?' Ginny asked, impatiently.

'You know, I'm really surprised you can understand Kneazle,' Harry replied.

'I'm speaking Kneazle?' Ginny stammered, rather shocked.

'And quite well too, although you do well at most anything you put your mind to, so I guess it isn't too much of a stretch. To answer your question, the Unicorns have spotted intruders in the forest again. They wanted to warn us, well, me anyway. There is a large shaggy dog that has been hanging around and two other men have been seen near Hogsmeade. They've tried coming through the forest, but they haven't made it here quite yet. I guess the cloaked soul-sucking harbingers of empty treat tins are doing a pretty good job of fending the men off. Nearly caught them yesterday.'

Ginny, even as a lion, looked perplexed. 'The Unicorns can get near them?'

'They said it isn't pleasant, but they can if need be. I didn't think too much about it really. I make a point of avoiding those blokes,' Harry said nonchalantly.

'They scare the hell out of me, Paws.'

'Nothing to worry about, Sparkplug. Just avoid them like you would a nest of Acromantula.'

'Harry,' Harry's ears perked at the sound of his real name. 'What if we can't? I saw what they did to you and I know what they did to me. What if we can't avoid them? They eat peoples' souls for Merlin's sake. They scare the hell out of me, Paws and I hate having something I don't know how to fight.'

Harry's face contorted and his tail began whipping back and forth quickly. Ears low and eyes down he had to admit she had a good point. Everything else it seemed he could fight with claws, teeth and occasionally his trusty wand if need be, but these Demented-thingy's had steel skin or something from the way Dumbledore talked and Harry doubted even Ginny's impressive claws could get through that. Not that he'd let her near them, mind. She had a bad enough reaction and lion or not, she was still his human.

'What were they saying about Neville?'

'Oh, that was the odd bit. The two men were talking rather loudly about axing the 'Longbottom git' and one seemed most in favour while the other said they couldn't do that until the master's downfall was dealt with first.'

'They were talking about killing Neville?' Ginny roared. She winced visibly at the sound. If they weren't caught before the end of the night, it would be a miracle.

'Well, we don't know that, do we? I mean, Neville is hardly a git and there are plenty of other Longbottoms in the area, don't you think?'

'Harry, Neville and his Gran are some of the only Longbottoms we've ever met.'

'Oh… I guess they were talking about killing him, then. We should tell him, I think.'

'Yes, Paws, perhaps we should,' Ginny finished. Her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Risking a visit to the Hospital, they checked in on Crookshanks for the night, who was delighted to hear about Ginny's new found four-legged locomotive powers.

"You doing alright, then?" Harry asked, now back in two legs once more. "Keeping you comfortable and a clean litter-box?"

'Sure, they are. I can't wait to get out though. The old woman in here fusses like a Pride Mum with her first litter. She does have a nice lap, though, and she sits in the sunbeams… with old weathered hands.' Crookshanks began purring, Harry suspected, without even realizing it and he had to stifle a smile.

"Glad it isn't too awful. When are the letting you out?"

'The big man, Hagrid I think, and the old woman say another week or so and I should be mended enough to let my pet be given back to me. Provided I don't do heavy lifting or mate with too many mollies.'

"I'm sorry this all happened. When you get out though…"

'That bastard is going to wish he'd never been born,' Crookshanks finished. 'I'm going to poop in his shoes for a month.'

"Or I will," Harry smirked. With final goodbyes and some last minute petting from Ginny, the two wayward Gryffindors headed back to their tower avoiding notice from all but the most nocturnal of portraits.

oOo

The next morning, Harry and Ginny managed to corner Neville alone before breakfast.

"Neville, we don't want to pry, but we need to know is there anyone… after you?" Ginny said, as delicately as possible.

"You're right, you don't need to know. Why are you asking anyway?" Neville snapped. His red-rimmed eyes were accented by the dark circles underneath. It didn't take a genius to figure out the boy hadn't been sleeping much.

"I talked to the Unicorns and they told me that they heard some men talking about wanting to kill you. Now, Malfoy I can understand random people wanting to stomp his ferret head right in, but you… you're too much lion for anyone to want to kill you without very good provocation," Harry informed the chubby boy, with as much tact as a sledgehammer. Ginny really wanted to hit him right now.

Neville on the other hand went paler than before. "You… how… How in Merlin's name can you talk to Unicorns? If this is just some plot, Potter, I don't find it funny," Neville fumed.

Harry remained unfazed. "It wasn't a plot two years ago, Neville, and if it is any consolation they told me that Sirius Black wants to kill me, too. Tell the truth, I get the distinct impression there is a waiting line behind him. As for how I can talk to the Unicorns, I don't know. A family gift I think, but no, I'm not related to Uncas the Unicorn Herder."

"Someone wants to kill you, too?" Neville said, shocked.

Harry nodded.

"Alright…" Neville choked out. It seemed the effort was monstrous. "Rudolphus Lestrange broke out a little while before Black did. They said they were making plans to come after me. 'Finish the job he'd started' my Gran said. I didn't want to believe it, but everything keeps pointing to it being true. Merlin, I wish it wasn't…" Neville leaned against the stone wall and slid slowly to the floor.

"Neville," Ginny said softly. "What do you mean, 'finish the job'?"

"I mean," Neville said, nearly yelling at this point, "That he was going to do me like my Mum and Dad. They had their minds broken by the Cruciatus Curse. In Saint Mungo's they are. Stuck there like two potted petunias. I go to see them every week, but I don't think they've ever known who I was, and if what you're telling me is true, this psycho bastard is coming here next! Wants to complete the set, I heard Zabini say. Word's gotten round I can tell you that, and I'm scared, Potter. Bloody well scared. My parents were both trained Aurors and even they couldn't defend themselves against a couple of no talent Voldemort hacks."

Ginny gasped at the open use of the dark lord's name and even more so at Neville's apparent ease with it. Well, ease may not be the best word, the boy was one step short of hysterics.

"That's right, I said it. VOLDEMORT!" Neville bellowed. "If I'm going to be a potted plant for the rest of my life, I'm not going to give the son-of-a-bitch the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I'll be brave, like my Dad was and like Gran always said I should be. That sexing dog-rotter won't get the satisfaction."

Harry began to chuckle a little bit, and soon enough all three were nearly rolling with laughter from the suppressed emotions. Neville was wiping away tears that were threatening to fall. "Got me talking like you now, Harry. I mean, really, who says 'sexing dog-rotter', honestly?"

Harry put his hand on Neville's shoulder and said, "It's alright, mate. It isn't just you now, and he's only got one other manky git with him. Our Pride is bigger than his and we'll kill him together. No one's breaking you without facing pointy death." Harry unleashed his most feral grin. "Now, come on. We have breakfast and Herbology. Wouldn't want Professor Sprout missing her Green Wonder now would we?"

Neville reluctantly nodded and stood. "Harry, who is Uncas?"

"Oh. An American bloke, liked Unicorns a whole lot. Sebastian always said it was in the carnal sense, though. Whatever that means."

oOo

Herbology managed to raise Neville's spirits a little bit, which relieved Harry to no end. Even just walking into the green houses saw much of the tension Neville carried day to day, wash away.

"Now class, today we'll be working on beginning cultivation of Bubotubers. Their harvesting and cultivation will be a theme for us throughout this year and be a major component in this year's final exams," Professor Sprout said.

Harry was having a hard time concentrating. An unusual aroma filled the air and was making him insatiably hungry. He scanned the room for anything unusual and only spotted a small pot containing some long green leaves alongside a bag of dried herbs. Sniffing deeply, the boy-Kneazle was reasonably sure that was the problem. With the distracting aroma, he was going to have a hard time focusing on such an important lesson.

"Psst! Neville," Harry whispered. Neville responded with eye contact. "What's that funny plant over there?" Harry whispered again.

"Nepeta Cataria. It's an herb Professor Sprout has been trying to cross with some magical plant to test the effects. It's also called catnip."

"Oh." Was all Harry could say. He'd never heard of such a thing before, but the smell was becoming overpowering at this point and he had to get rid of it. Gently shifting himself around the back of the gathered students, Harry finally made his way next to the exotic plant. At this point, Harry was starving. The plant smelled so good, and then he realised something. It wasn't the plant that was the main source of his problem, but the bag with dried leaves. He gingerly picked it up, and opened it, taking a long inhale. After all, he was curious and what was the worst that could happen?

Harry's vision exploded in a kaleidoscope of colour and sound. The Kneazle felt his paws, or were they feet, leave the ground. As a series of talking purple wombats began doing show tunes to his left and the sky began melting, Harry began to run.

_AN: Wow, thanks for the patience people. I'm sorry to say that this story may be on a bit of hiatus for the moment. Between school, work and writers block I haven't begun chapter 30. Please note, this does not equal any abandonment of this story what so ever! I fully plan to write again just as soon as possible. However, there may be no further updates till Decemberish. I just want you all to know. Anyway, hope this is worth the wait. To these things you must return- Manatoc Fox_


	30. Meetings

Ch. 30

Harry's vision gradually cleared and he blinked his eyes blearily. It felt like there were lead weights placed on his eyelids and his eyelashes were glued together. The last thing he remembered was trying to give a topless mermaid to the school's sushi chef after he'd finished dancing with her. For a fish she was a marvellous dancer, but now it seemed he'd finally been stripped of his rambunctious fun and was staring at a blank stone ceiling, the smell of disinfectant hanging heavy in the air.

"Ughhh…" Harry let out a moan that clearly conveyed a world of discomfort and pain. The right hand came and attempted to assist its master by clearing emerald eyes of sleep and debris but halfway to the final destination it was abruptly stopped by a metallic tether and a rather loud 'clink'.

Harry turned his head ever so carefully to the right to ensure it would stay attached and surveyed the reason why his hand refused to come to his aid, finding that in fact it was handcuffed to the railing of one standard sized hospital bed. Looking around the room, Harry noticed that in fact the bed wasn't out of place as he was in the hospital. Only the wrist restraint seemed unusual.

Attempting to move his remaining limbs he found they were accosted with similar restraints, thus effectively immobilizing his whole body. "Ughhhh…" Harry moaned again, finally turning to his left at the sound of a familiar chuckle.

"You awake, mate?" one Ron Weasley asked, sitting comfortably in a large plush armchair next to his bed.

"I… think so?" Harry said experimentally. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you still be in Herbology?"

Ron gave him an amused smile. "I guess you really don't remember a thing. Dumbledore said that might happen. Herbology ended sometime yesterday, after you tried to hug a devil's snare that Professor Sprout had been breeding and then threw it across the room when you declared it 'smelled like under arm cheese'."

"Wow… I can't believe I did that. I don't remember it. How did I end up here then? If I threw one of those, I would think someone else would be in here too," Harry muttered. Ron merely laughed again, making Harry really wish his friend would reduce the volume by several thousand decibels.

"Nah, that was only the beginning. Harry, the stories that they'll tell about that day will be legendary. How did you think it all up? I mean, Dumbledore said you weren't really aware of what was going on, but I don't see how that was possible."

Harry gave the red-head a very stern glare. "Ron, the last thing I remember was trying to convince a house-elf to turn a topless mermaid into a delicacy involving rice and seaweed."

"I knew it! I told Hermione you knew what you were doing, but why that shushee stuff, Harry?"

Harry paled. "What do you mean, 'you knew it'? I'm confused about the bits before that part, maybe you better start at the beginning. And why the bloody hell are you here?"

Ron smiled back, unfazed. "Firstly McGonagall told me I could stay to watch for when you woke up. Said you might need a friendly face and all that. I've been here since they cornered you about six in the evening," Ron said, self-importantly. "Secondly, you did try to convince a house-elf to turn a mermaid into something Hermione called 'shushee' and said it was fish and rice and seaweed. Don't know why you wanted that sort of thing though. Treacle tart, now that's what I would have asked for."

"So I really did it?"

"Yup. Funniest shite I've ever seen, mate. Couldn't believe it myself. Of course that was after most of the castle had gone back to their common rooms."

"How late was that?" Harry mused aloud.

"Ohh right after lunch," Ron replied.

"Why was everyone in the common rooms then? I know for a fact the Library doesn't close till nine and Hermione is usually there at least that late."

"Because of you, Harry! Blimey, you were brilliant. Couldn't have done a better job of it myself, and to think you knew what you were doing all along. Mad you are, mad, but brilliant."

"Ron," Harry moaned wishing for at least the third time that very minute that his friend would please be less enthusiastic while Harry's head attempted to sue his body for divorce. "I didn't know what I was doing. I remember the mermaid bit and some things about dancing wombats and a dragon named Pinkerton who wanted me to swim in his lake of syrup, but beyond that I'm drawing a blank. Perhaps you'd care to explain it?"

Ron's eyes gleamed, "Alright, but it'll have to be fast. I'm supposed to tell McGonagall when you're awake."

"Where's Madam Pomfrey?"

"At St. Mungo's," Ron replied.

"Why is she there?"

"Because you tried to drop a chandelier on her,"

"WHAT? How badly is she hurt? Am I going to get expelled?" Harry began to hyperventilate, until Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed.

"Harry, no one important got hurt. You tried to drop a chandelier on her, tried being the operative word. I heard Professor Flitwick say that she decided to go to St. Mungoe's until you came down and that McGonagall should send for her as soon as you were under control. Now, are you going to let me tell the story, or should I get Prof the Cat now?" At seeing Harry's confused look for their Head of House, Ron clarified, "What you called her in the dungeon. Anyway, you seem to remember sniffing that bag of herbs Professor Sprout had in Herbology and a second after you went crazy. Tried to hug the devil's snare and then threw it across the room, nearly hit me, and then you ran out of the greenhouse through one of the windows yelling 'I am the king of ham, show me your boobies.'"

Ron took a moment to savour his friend's wide eyed stare. "Then after that you made straight for the castle, and I don't mind telling you the havoc you caused for at least two hours in there. You jumped on Filch's back and grabbed his ears all the while yelling 'I'm a tasty troll trollop, away to the cat house.' You managed to poke every single Hufflepuff in the stomach on their way to lunch and declared yourself Duke and defender of pudding. Whereupon you growled at everyone approaching the headmaster's chair. Until…" Ron smiled evilly.

"Until what, Ron?" Harry snapped. The whole thing was beginning to sound farfetched, but Harry couldn't quite begin to make himself disbelieve. He hoped beyond hope that he managed to pass out after the purple wombats, but Harry felt that sinking sensation in his stomach that said Ron was likely telling the truth.

"Well, you saw this older girl, a Ravenclaw and ran straight for her, screaming 'Would you like to making fuck?' You chased her all the way to the Potions Classroom, I heard. I was impressed. I don't recall you every saying 'fuck' before."

"What was her name?" If he really did do all the things Ron said, Harry would need to studiously avoid any Hufflepuffs and certainly this thus far unnamed Ravenclaw.

"Yeah, I asked Ginny's friend about that. Figured she might know. Odd girl, she is. Don't really know what to make of her."

"Her name, Ron," Harry interrupted forcefully.

"Cho Chang, a fourth year with a cute bum. Pity too, Luna says she's vowed revenge or something like that. Said you scared her half to death after you started ripping your clothes off. Of course Fred and George appreciated the aftermath."

Harry closed his eyes and counted to five. He was beginning to think Ron enjoyed teasing him with nearly completed thoughts. Ron for his part sensed his friend's growing impatience and decided to finish his story quickly. "Well you made it all the way to Snape's room where Fred and George were just getting out of class. Cho made it there a few seconds before and started yelling about Harry Potter trying to kill her. Well, Snape pulled out his wand and walked out to the corridor to see what was going on and you jumped up and grabbed his nose and then punched him below the belt. Fred and George said it was the most beautiful sight when they saw him slump to the ground."

"Isis, Snape's going to get me expelled," Harry muttered.

"He was hopping mad, that's for sure, but I think it really clinched it when you put your foot on his chest and announced that the King of Ham took no prisoners and that 'they' better hand over 'their' wenches before you got violent. Well, at that point McGonagall had shown up and according to Fred your exact words were 'egads! Prof the Cat, my wenches must wait onwards to the virgin sacrifice' and then you ran up three flights of stairs went out the window and apparently demanded from the giant squid a virgin mermaid to sacrifice to your dark goddess Isis."

"Wow… I really did all of that?"

Ron nodded enthusiastically. "What really shocked everyone was that five minutes later the squid brought one up."

"Was she really topless?"

"Not at first, but I heard you yelling about Goddess Isis demanding breasts and seaweed."

"Wait… you heard me? Where were you?" Harry asked, quite perplexed at this point.

"In the tower. Dumbledore made everyone return to their common rooms to avoid any more afternoon disturbances. Why do you ask?"

"If you were in the tower, Ron, then how did you hear me?"

"Harry, I'd be surprised if the whole bloody castle didn't hear you. It was like you had a Sonorous charm cast on you. Anyway, after that you demanded that a house-elf turn your new find into shushee or sushi or something like that and when you couldn't find one I guess you chased one down in the castle. Anyway, I heard McGonagall and Flitwick talking about how it took another four or five hours to get you pinned down."

"And no one thought to, I dunno, Stun me or something?"

"Flitwick tried a bunch of non-lethal curses, apparently, but they said you were too slippery. Just kept bouncing around like a Kneazle on a frying pan." Harry growled at the witticism, but otherwise said nothing as his friend continued the narration. "Anyway, it seemed Professor Vector from Arithmancy might have hit you with a Stunner, but it didn't have any effect. They had to wait until you practically passed out and then they brought you in here and chained you up."

"Why'd they do that?" Harry finally asked.

"Because, Mr. Potter," came the Scottish accent of one Minerva McGonagall as she brusquely strode into the room. "Dumbledore wasn't at all sure that a Body Bind would be sufficient in keeping you subdued after you brought down half the castle. Now, Mr. Weasley, if you would be so kind as to return to the common room you may let your House know that your friend is awake and alive once more. In the meantime, Mr. Potter, you and I have some things to discuss with the headmaster."

With a wave of her wand the chains released her bound cousin and with a wave of her hand, Minerva McGonagall sent the youngest Weasley male running.

"Am I getting expelled, Cousin?" Harry asked timidly. He was surprised to feel that he might miss learning here. He enjoyed the distraction from frolicking in the forest.

"On the whole, I think not. However, Professor Dumbledore does wish to impress upon you the seriousness of what you've done."

"I don't remember what I did!" Harry protested.

"Which is why you aren't being expelled, Mr. Potter. However it is imperative we discover why you acted in the manner in which you did so that we may avoid such a ruckus in the future." And with that both Harry and Professor the Cat strode from the Hospital and towards the guardian gargoyle of the Headmaster's office.

oOo

Harry's life seemed to take a turn for the more complicated after his drug induced shenanigans around the castle. Potions had turned from highly unpleasant to completely unbearable after a boy in the OWLs class had charmed his lacewings to spell out 'All Hail the King of Ham'. Snape had obviously been denied his emphatic requests for Harry's expulsion by virtue of the looks that Harry received on a daily basis and the fact that he'd not yet been asked to leave. This didn't make the greasy potions professor any friendlier, nor did it stop him from ruthlessly targeting Harry or any of 'Potter's fan club' as Snape had dubbed them. By Harry's recollection he'd lost nearly sixty points in Potions alone, not to mention the eighty three that Dumbledore had taken away during Harry's last meeting with the headmaster.

Dumbledore had explained that while Harry wouldn't be expelled, serious punishment was merited if only to show the rest of the student body that, wilfully or no, this kind of behaviour wouldn't be tolerated and so the old man had docked Harry one point for each account of indecent, lewd, amoral, or generally reprehensible behaviour and an additional five points for accosting miss Chang bringing the total to eighty three points. This really didn't bother Harry, as he'd given up trying to figure out the fascination other students had with House Points. What did bother him a great deal though was the fact that all of Harry's Hogsmeade visits had been suspended.

While Harry didn't particularly relish another village to visit, he'd talked to Sir Gordon and been informed that several cousins of Sir Gawain and Robin's (they were hatchlings together) had been spotted nearby and they had politely entreated Harry to invite their estranged family for a visit. Harry hated having to disappoint, and then there was the mystery of the two men who the Unicorns had seen.

In addition it seemed that the vast majority of Ravenclaw girls had taken Harry's chasing after one of their own as a personal affront to their very being. So Harry had become noticeably more high strung as of late once he realised it wasn't merely Miss Chang and her closest friends who were 'Harry hunting'. Once his friends figured it out, Ron had spearheaded the charge to make sure that 'the birds would rue the day they chose to challenge the lawful and legitimate rule of the King of Ham!' It seemed Ron hadn't lost his perspective on the situation.

Not to say that all hope was lost. The Hufflepuffs didn't seem to hold a lasting grudge, except for large groups of them who would suddenly all grab their stomachs and back away slowly, snickering. In his free time there was Quidditch to look forward to and Herbology continued to be fun, and Harry had managed to switch Divination with Muggle Studies, but nothing compared to Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid had invited Harry for tea the Sunday after the catnip debacle and expressed some concern with the way his classes were going. Saying that maybe the hippogriffs were a bit much to start out with and perhaps he should have started out with something smaller, like flobberworms.

Harry, however, violently disagreed and pointed out that the Hippogriffs themselves did nothing to warrant any blame and it was in fact the students who caused all the trouble. Then, the two, with some strict supervision from Ginny who'd tagged along, had worked out nearly the whole rest of the year and it promised to be a good one. Hagrid and Harry did finally concede that perhaps hatching dragons might be a bit much to start off with in third year but stood resolutely on the idea that Bicorns would be included, despite their preference for human flesh. For the next few weeks though, Harry had agreed to talk to the Kneazles and Unicorns about making an appearance and promised that even if he couldn't be there at least one Kneazle would. This caused Ginny to break into a fit of giggles.

Even Defence Against the Dark Arts had become tolerable as week after week, Harry could not discern any aggressive behaviour from the wolf in man's clothing standing at the front of the room. That didn't mean he would be letting his guard down though. There was still something predatory about the professor in frayed robes, but at least he was a good teacher. Harry was at least learning something.

Today, though, had not been a good one. Not only had he only barely dodged six hexes, whether from Ravenclaws or Slytherins pretending to be Ravenclaws Harry couldn't be sure, but even some of his own House were beginning to grumble about the fact that no matter how many points they earned in classes, Harry seemed to manage to lose them all just as quickly, and Gryffindor stood resolutely in last place for the House Cup. It wasn't his fault, he tried to point out, but some, like Percy, were beyond reasoning. To top it all off, today was the first Hogsmeade visit, Harry was still banned, and it wasn't even like he could tag along with Ginny. So it was with an irritated tail swish that he, Ginny and the now much healed Crookshanks headed to the Forbidden Forest while the rest of their friends made merry in the nearby village.

After Crookshanks disastrous first impression, where half the Kneazle mollies wanted to mate with him and most the toms wanted to kill him, it was decided that the only way Crookshanks would approach the den was with Ginny or Harry's supervision. Today, though, they weren't going to see the den. Today they were meeting a friend of Mog's, even if the Orange Duke hadn't divulged all his titles yet.

'He's a little skittish at first, but he reminds me so much of you, Harry. I figured you had to meet him.' Crookshanks said. He'd been going on about his new friend nervously ever since they left the tower.

'Cousin, it's okay. I'm sure we'll like him. Does he know he's going to meet us?' Harry asked.

'He knows I'm bringing you. I didn't tell him about your Animagus form though. I didn't want to scare him with the idea of a Kneazle being able to turn into a human, and I didn't tell him about Ginny. I didn't know if the lioness would want to come, so I didn't want to get his hopes up.'

'That's alright, 'Shanks, I'll just hang back a bit and wait until he's comfortable with Harry,' Ginny chimed in. Harry glanced sideways at her and was entranced as always. The way her red fur rippled with the wind and how graceful she was on four legs. It was almost a pity she wasn't a Kneazle, she could have made a great one.

'Stay here for a moment. He's just around the willow tree.' Crookshanks moved quickly to the indicated spot and disappeared from view. Harry and Ginny were tucked a bit further back behind one of the largest pumpkins in Hagrid's patch. Harry was sure the Gamekeeper and his faithful hound were rounding up the next lesson involving Abraxans.

'There he is!' Ginny exclaimed. Harry shushed her quickly. As a lion, she did have a tendency to be a bit more vocal than your average Kneazle and while she was the undisputed predator of some areas, here was not one of them.

'Yes, Sparkplug, there he is and there is his, HOLY-ISIS-SEXING-TAIL-LICKING!'

'Harry! What is wrong?' Ginny demanded.

'What's wrong? Can't you tell? It's a dog, Ginny. A Mother sexing dog! What in Isis' name is he doing with a dog? Maybe the dog ate his friend and we have to kill it for him?'

'Paws, do you trust our Mog?'

'Yes, of course.'

'Then trust his choice of friends.'

Harry growled low, but tried to smooth his fur. Harry watched as the large black dog moved cautiously behind his orange friend and finally within speaking distance. There was something wrong though. The dog didn't quite move like a dog. It had a friendly lope, but it had an intelligence that Harry had never associated with canines. He just didn't move like a predator. He was fearsome to be sure, but he moved a bit like… Ginny. As though he wasn't quite sure on four legs.

'Harry, I'd like you to meet my friend Sirius,' Crookshanks said nervously. It was painfully clear to the bowlegged fluff ball that his friends were not getting off to an auspicious start.

'Dog,' Harry began.

'Nice meet you. Good friend, yes?' The large black dog began. Harry winced. His grammar was bad even for a dog.

'Mog, did your dog friend swim in the shallow end of the gene pool?'

'Good friends all! Friends parents. Good friends, yes! Like all parents. He take to Harry now?'

'Mog, this shaggy excuse for a hound makes Fang sound like a Kneazle. Really, I think I could have a better conversation with a mandrake.'

'Where Harry? Harry here?' the black dog inquired again.

'Paws, I think you know as well as I do that this drooling mutt is a bit more than he seems,' Crookshanks cut in.

Harry's initial assessment was brought back. This dog had an otherworldly quality about him…

'Mog, please don't tell me you made friends with an unknown Animagus that might potentially want to kill me.'

'What? No, he was very excited to meet you and I wanted you to meet him too. He and I have talked a bit, and he really seems to want to help you,' Crookshanks replied.

'Mutt, what's your name?' Harry growled out.

In a flash there was a dishevelled man in tattered robes and a wild black beard standing in front of them. As he bowed low he said, "Sirius Black is the name, and my intentions towards the young Mr. Potter are innocent enough I assure you, cat. I was hoping you might be able to arrange a YEAHHH!"

Sirius screamed as the giant red form of Ginny pounced from the pumpkin patch. 'I hah hi' Pous!' Ginny exclaimed around the carefully held neck of the older wizard.

'Good work Sparkplug, we need to take him to meet some friends of ours.' Abruptly Harry turned his attention to their bowlegged companion. 'Mog, I will say this once. Go get Father. Tell him I sent you and we need all available toms to the small clearing east of the den. If your friend here proves less than satisfactory I will kill him myself.'

'Harry! He wants to help. He promised."

Harry's eyes took on a stone-like quality and he spoke in a low and ferocious tone that Ginny had never heard her usually fun-loving companion use before. 'Go, now. I won't kill him presently because you vouch for him, but if you don't get moving I will make sure you never leave your basket again. NOW GO!'

Sensing the steel in his friend's words, Crookshanks bolted to the forest. 'Now, Sparkplug, let's take our guest to somewhere more… comfortable.' Ginny nodded gently and began to drag the gurgling Sirius Black into the forest.

_AN: Thanks for waiting loyal fans, but UPDATE MAN strikes again. I can't say when the next one will pop up, because school is rapidly closing which means UPDATE MAN will face the super villain FINALS WEEK! I hope this chapter pleases and doesn't leave you with too much of a cliffie. Thanks again to all who read and to all my reviewers out there, even if I don't answer each one personally. I'm sorry about that!_


	31. Demands and Explanations

Ch 31: Demands and Explanations

Sirius Black's day was not going at all how he had planned. After he'd met the helpful little orange ball of fluff and tried to explain the situation to him, Crookshanks seemed intent on helping him. Sirius needed to meet his Godson, that much was certain. Unfortunately, it seemed that the local wildlife had a mind of their own and for some reason Hagrid had begun keeping a lion on the grounds. He tried to fathom a reason for her presence, but even with Hagrid's unique taste in pets, Sirius wasn't at all sure how Dumbledore would allow it, especially with her being so hungry.

Sirius's hand stretched a little deeper into his robe, in search for the wand he'd been using. He hadn't pulled it out straight away, because the tricky little orange bugger had told him it might alarm those he was taking Sirius to meet. Just a little deeper and he almost had it… "YEGRHHH!" Sirius tried to yell, but with the grip the lioness had around his neck, it was proving rather difficult to vocalize the discomfort he felt when the black cat next to him sunk his abnormally sized claws into the escaped convicts probing digits.

'Drop him, Sparkplug,' Harry commanded.

'Paws, I don't like this. Daddy said this man wants to murder you.'

'Of course he does. It's a common enough phenomenon, but he doesn't know I'm me now does he? He thinks I'm a very perceptive Kneazle.'

'Ahoy, Mr. Paws!' came the infectious meow of Harry's favourite feline friend.

'Hi, Igglebum. I do wish you wouldn't call me that?'

'Why not, the cute molly on your right does.' Harry growled warningly. He did not need to have to defend Ginny from a horde of horny toms.

'Children, please. Mr. Paws has called us here for a reason, and I would know what it is,' rang the powerful mew of the Pride Father.

'Sir, the humans say this man wants to kill me, but our brother-in-fur says differently. I would know the truth and there are none better at mousing that out than we Kneazles. However, I must talk to him on two legs, so I must also ask for your protection should Mog be wrong.'

'Harry, I swear he really wants to help,'

'Quiet!' Harry shouted, glaring at his bowlegged friend. 'The only reason I haven't killed him straight off is because you vouched for him. Now, we shall convene a trial by Kneazle and only the righteously furry shall pass.'

'What is that?' Crookshanks asked a little worriedly.

'Oh, that's true, you wouldn't know not having grown up wild. There are twelve Kneazles and they will determine if he's lying or not, when I ask questions.'

'Paws, if you're asking questions, then…' Ginny began a bit protectively.

'That's right, Sparkplug I'm going to have to be on two legs, which is why I want you nearby to watch my back.'

Sirius watched in fascination as the cats of all shapes and sizes seemed to be having a very deep conversation. He just wished that the large lion would move from atop him while they were doing it. However, at a nod, twelve Kneazles from the woods emerged and all settled on his various appendages. With each weighing close to forty pounds, it felt as though he was being crushed in a very dense fur coat.

"Thank you friends," Harry said, sitting down next to a very shocked mass murderer. The son of Sirius' near brother sat down next to his head, all the while Sirius was still trying to figure out where the boy had been hiding. Maybe he'd been using James' Invisibility Cloak? Perhaps, but Sirius wasn't even sure where it was. James hadn't had it when Godric's Hollow was attacked, but where had the boy come from and why were the animals all seeming to defer to him?

"You, Mr. Sirius Black have been accused with wanting to kill me. How do you plead?"

"Harry? Is that really you? Where did you come from? Merlin, the last time I saw you, you were just a little baby."

Harry rolled his eyes. "While I'm flattered that you remember the kitten of a man you betrayed, this court would ask that you keep all remembrances until after we decide what to do with you."

"Betrayed? Is that what they told you? I would never…"

"How do you plead, Mr. Black?" Harry growled, mustering his best impression of Father on a bad day.

"Merlin, Harry! Not guilty, I suppose. Where have you been? I'd heard snippets that no one has seen you for years!"

"Not guilty?" Harry repeated. "If you are not indeed wanting to kill me, then would you please explain why you are here and why then the black minions of Sirius the dog haunt the outskirts of this castle as we speak, looking for you?"

"Black what? Are you talking about the Dementors?" Sirius responded, confused. Harry merely nodded.

"What are you talking about Sirius the dog? I'm Sirius and as your little pals have seen, I am sometimes a dog."

Harry glared intensely at the seemingly flippant manner of the older man, while his feline friends shifted uncomfortably. "You are the prisoner here, old man. I would suggest you keep a civil tongue in your mouth. Now, I ask again why are you here if you aren't planning to kill me?"

"Harry, you've got to believe! I'm your godfather, your old Uncle Padfoot. I bought you a toy broom when you were only a month old. If anything happened to James and Lily I was supposed to take you in. I love you like you're my own pup!" Sirius' protests were cut abruptly short with the angry growls emanating from all twelve of his smaller captors and a sad look from the lion still planted on his chest.

"Don't confuse me with a dog, old man. Now, I'm getting tired of asking the same questions again and again. Why are you here?"

"I'm here to get a little revenge and stop two bad men from killing you."

"Explain. I'm listening."

"Harry, I'm here to find the man who set me up and stop him and a fellow prisoner from killing you."

A long bone-handled knife seemed to grow out from next to the older man's head, so quickly did it appear. "Mr. Black, I assure you I don't find this one bit amusing. Now you had better start at the beginning."

Taken aback at the young teen's insistence and feeling rather cooperative Sirius spilled everything. From the switch of the Fidelius Charm to the betrayal of Peter Pettigrew, his arrest and trial, all to the most recent happenings of events.

"Who are those two other men though?" Harry asked. "I'm guessing one is this Pettigrew you talked about, but that leaves one unaccounted for."

"Rodolphuss Lestrange," Sirius spat. "One of the evilest, slimiest, pieces of dark trash I've ever met, and I had the rare privilege of being in a cell not thirty feet away from him."

"What does he have against me?"

"Harry, what does every dark wizard have against you? You killed their leader! Now, Pettigrew got him out to come help finish the job, providing the price is right."

"Sirius, you're speaking in circles. How did this Lestrange get out and what is he doing here?"

"Harry, I'm not sure how the man escaped exactly. I told you how I escaped, and I'm hoping you'll have the decency to keep that little secret a secret for now."

"If you live old man," Harry replied. Sirius paled a little, but continued.

"Lestrange though, he's a twisted one. He wants a little payback himself and he aims to get his pound of flesh from the Longbottom boy."

Harry's insides twisted uncomfortably at that. He'd hoped that perhaps there had been a mistake and the whole thing was a big hoax, but Sirius had just confirmed that there was a murderous conspiracy involving Neville. "I mean they get to kill two birds with one spell. Lestrange and Pettigrew get to knock off the Boy-Who-Lived and his best friend. The only thing I'm curious about, Harry, is what secret you have that would make the rat face come out of hiding to track the two of you down," Sirius mused.

"What do you mean? Neville doesn't have any big secrets of mine. At least none I think would be worth killing over. I haven't even told him where the best mousing grounds are, not that he'd care."

"You, Harry James Potter, are quite possibly the strangest boy I've ever met. Your Dad would be proud. I heard them talking though. Peter was insistent that you and 'the red-headed brat' had to die to keep his secret, which is kind of funny because I never thought a Longbottom would wind up with red hair. Both his parents had brown. Unless Alice was a bit more carefree than I ever thought."

"Stop. You said red hair. You assumed he was my best friend. Did Lestrange ask for Neville separately, or was it part of this deal you mentioned." Harry's mind was going frantically. Why hadn't he considered it before?

"I don't remember all that clearly, Harry. The effects of the Dementors are awfully strong and I only could catch snippets of the conversation. I remember those bits and your name and Neville's. Not a whole lot else. Of course, at that point I had to break out. Can't have the slimy git murdering my favourite godson and his best friend can I?" Sirius tried the lopsided grin that had served him so well in the past in avoiding minor detentions until he could do something that really merited one. Harry merely glared in concentration. The wheels in his mind were turning, and they were coming to the only conclusion he could reach.

"You're lying to save your skin. You are an aptly named Sirius, son of Sirius the dog star and destroyer of Kneazles. There is only one punishment Isis demands from the children of her nemesis."

"Oh, and what is that, if I may ask, Harry?" Sirius said quietly. This boy was getting stranger by the minute, but he did have a particularly wicked looking knife and James' son had just picked it up.

"Death, Mr. Black, death." At that point, Sirius was sure his godson had gone crazy. Perhaps he'd always been crazy, but what thirteen-year-old talked so calmly about killing someone? Fortunately for the possibly innocent mass-murderer he was saved by an unlikely source. An old and wizened looking Kneazle limped slowly from the forest. His fur was matted and greying and he was missing a big piece of his ear.

Harry dropped his knife instantly and luckily for the prisoner it missed striking a vital piece of his anatomy by mere inches. All the other Kneazles averted their eyes to the ground and began purring a low cadence. Sirius felt as though his motorbike had suddenly been started while he lay underneath it.

"Grandfather, what brings you to our piece of the forest?" Harry asked.

'Change, kitten. I won't have you speaking like a common primate,'

"There is a stranger here who would find out my secret," Harry protested.

'You were going to kill him anyway. Now change!'

Harry swiftly dropped into the form Isis granted him so many years ago, ignoring the startled gasp of surprise from his prisoner.

'You honour us with your visit, Grandfather.'

'I've never met you, Kneazle boy. I decided now was a good time. I am ashamed to call you cousin.'

Harry looked up surprised. Of all the things he expected the wizened former leader of the Hogwarts Pride to say, disappointment was not one of them.

'You don't understand, Grandfather. He's a dog. He might be trying to kill me,' Harry protested.

'No, kitten. You don't understand. Now be quiet and listen. You had made up your mind about this dog since the moment you met him. If you were just going to kill him why call for a council of twelve and play with him like a common house cat? Were you hoping to gain something from him? A piece of information maybe?'

'Well, it certainly crossed my mind. We have to know everything we can about these humans.'

'And there kitten is your problem. You scheme and plot like a human. Are you even Kneazle anymore?'

'What? Of course I am. Why would you say something like that?' Harry mewled forcefully.

'While the Sphinx is the wisest of all creatures, we are descended from her. A real Kneazle must have wisdom as well as skill. Remember the teachings of your father. You must think like we have taught you to think, and worry less how the humans might approach something. We know that humans are illogical and stupid, which is why Isis placed them under our protection. You want to lead a Pride of your own one day. You have courage, and I've heard rumours you're certainly a fierce warrior, but any tom can boast that. Until you can learn to temper your passions and hunt like a real Kneazle, you'll never have your own Pride. Now, if I may offer a piece of advice. You have twelve of your siblings here. Ask them if that dog of yours is lying. We Kneazles are renowned for our ability to smell the truth.'

Bobbing his head once the old Kneazle turned and slowly plodded his way back to the depths of the forest, while Harry stood dumbstruck and turned sheepishly to the members of the Pride he'd called upon to help in this endeavour. 'Well, is he telling the truth?'

Each Kneazle in their turn stood and walked off from Sirius' appendages, until only Ginny remained. 'Paws, what does that mean? No one answered you.'

Harry merely smiled grimly. 'They didn't have to. They told me in their own way that the dog was truthful. It's your turn now, Sparkplug. You have to back off as well. The next bit is between him and me.'

Sirius sat up slowly as the red lion removed her paw from his chest and walked just to the edge of the clearing they were in, still plenty close enough to make the man-dog nervous. Rubbing his face he sat up and came face to face with a scowling Harry Potter, who for the moment had put his knife away and seemed less intent on doing bodily harm to anyone at the moment. What Sirius had a hard time grasping though, was the obvious conclusion he came to. "You're an Animagus," Sirius whispered.

"So are you," Harry shot back.

"But it took your father and me until our fifth year to do that! The way you change, how long have you been?"

"Not important Mr. Black."

"Call me Sirius, please." Sirius was a little unnerved at the expression that came across his Godson's face.

"You, sir, are Mr. Black. Sirius is reviled among the Kneazles of this and every forest. He is the sworn enemy of Isis, my lady, and the destroyer of dens. His son, Anubis, strikes mollies with still born kittens. So, for the sake of my friends, we will call you Mr. Black. Now, my friends believe you and for their sake I will believe you too. So, since you seem not intent on killing me I would think it would be in our best interest to see what we can do about hunting the two dog-rotters who happen to be plaguing the surrounding country side."

'Lead them to the Acromantula, boss!' A small grey Kneazle called out. He was a bizarre little one, and had insisted on calling Harry 'boss' ever since he'd heard Harry talk about killing the Basilisk. So, in honour of his bizarre nature, Harry had named him one of the most bizarre names he could think of.

"No, Electrolux, that's too dangerous and might not work. It's much simpler to hunt them like a mouse."

"Harry, you do realize you're talking to a Kneazle?" Sirius said, a little concerned.

"Of course I do. It is impolite not to answer someone when they're talking to you. Even humans should realize that."

"And you can understand them without being a cat? I've never heard of something like that," Sirius marvelled.

"Of course you haven't. Most humans don't take the time to talk to the smaller creatures of the earth. I happen to pay them mind. That's all. Now if you're through gawking at my diverse language abilities, I do believe we have a rat and a mother-sexing dog-rotter to kill."

Sirius gave one long hard stare at the boy in front of him and realized that this was no ordinary young man. Here was a child who had seen death long before his time and had come to peace with it. If this boy said they were going to kill Pettigrew and Lestrange, then Sirius had no reason to question him. So, adjusting himself on the ground, Sirius met face to face for the first time since his incarceration, the godson he'd pledged his life to protect and raise.

Harry felt like his mind had just been run through a dense pricker bush. He'd just cooperated with a dog. A man-dog, but a dog none the less, what would father think?

'Harry, do you trust him now?' Crookshanks finally spoke up. They were hustling back to the castle at top speed. The plotting session took a little longer than they'd anticipated and Ginny had pointed out that if they didn't hurry back, then the other Gryffindors might notice their absence.

'Not entirely, Mog. He's still a dog, but I can understand why we need to help him.'

'Why's that, Harry? Apart from those men wanting to kill you,' quipped Ginny.

'Because I don't think they're just after Neville and me.'

'Who else then?' Ginny asked.

'You, Sparkplug. Red hair and my best friend, who else could it be?'

Ginny stopped cold at Harry's words. She'd not thought about that. 'I thought Sirius had just misheard, or maybe he means Ron?' She squeaked out. Ginny was beginning to feel a little faint. She'd always thought of herself as a strong independent girl, but the idea of men who'd tortured trained Aurors into insanity made even her insides a little queasy.

'No, Ginny, I'm sure they're after you, but I can't figure out why. I'll be kenneled before they lay a dirty rat paw on you.'

Ginny smiled a little and gave her furry protector an appreciative purr. To Harry's sensitive ears, it sounded like a turbo-charged lorry had just turned over. 'We'll be alright, Sparkplug. We'll be alright.'

oOo

It was finally Thursday evening before Harry got around to telling Hermione, Ron and Neville about his conversation with a man who may not want to kill him as much as was previously thought. The reactions were somewhat differing to say the least.

"Bollox, Harry, I don't believe a word of what he says. He escaped Azkaban and wants to lure you into a false sense of security, before he kills you," Neville nearly shouted, before being shushed by the others.

"How exactly did you manage to talk to an escaped mass-murderer without being seen, and how did he get on the grounds? We have to tell Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione reiterated forcefully for the third time.

"He's telling the truth. I wish you would believe me," Harry sighed.

"How do you know? Even polygraphs can be fooled. There isn't a foolproof way to tell if someone is telling the truth. They say even Veritaserum can be fought."

"Poly-whats? Veritty-serum? What are you on about, Hermione?" Neville looked sharply at his bushy-haired friend.

"Polygraph, it's a Muggle lie detector, a machine that's supposed to tell if someone is telling the truth, and Veritaserum is a very powerful truth serum. Only a few wizards in England are capable of brewing it. Supposed to be very difficult to resist, but not impossible."

"Hermione, I don't care if your polygamy or whatever it is can be fooled, I'm telling you I had twelve reliable witnesses tell me the man was telling the truth. Isis knows, I don't like it any better than you, but it's the only way to keep us all safe and he's got a fairly good plan for dealing with these blokes. I'm sure now that they're after more than me."

"You really think they're after Ginny, don't you?" Neville asked, slightly dumbstruck.

"I do."

"No offence, Harry, but that doesn't make a whole lot of sense. You and Neville explained your connection, but why Ginny?"

"Couldn't tell you, Hermione."

Hermione huffed. "The more I think on this, the more I'm convinced Neville is right. Black was lying to you. He must have done a good job, to convince you so thoroughly…" Hermione's rant was interrupted by the unusually quiet Ron.

"Who told you he was telling the truth?" Ron queried, softly, but with an underlying strength Harry hadn't heard before.

"Twelve Kneazles all heard the whole thing and swore to me that he was telling the truth."

"That's the most ridiculous thing, Harry! You're going to believe a bunch of wild cats over your own common sense? Just listen to yourself!"

"Hermione, do me a favour?"

Hermione once again cut her rant short and stared at her Ginger friend. Ron had his eyes closed and arms crossed, leaning slightly forward. He looked unusually solemn. "Yes, Ron?"

"Shut the bloody hell up and let Harry talk. It may not have sunk in yet, but some fairly evil gits may want to off my best friend and my sister. I want to hear what Harry has to say on the matter. Now, Harry, you believe them? Enough to trust all our lives in his hands?"

Hermione's mouth opened and closed a few times, which Harry took as a fortuitous time to finish Ron's question. "Kneazles aren't often wrong and from the sound of it, they're more reliable than Hermione's polygamy machine. I'd trust them with my life, Ron."

"Ah, but it isn't just your life now, mate. It's Neville's and my sisters, and very likely Hermione's and mine. Would you trust your Kneazles' word with our lives?"

"Yes, Ron."

It seemed finally Hermione had regained her voice. "Are you seriously going to go along with this, Ron? I can't believe it looks like you're even considering it!"

Standing slowly, Ron said in an even slower manner as if speaking to a thick child, "Hermione, Harry saved my brothers' lives. He risked death for two Weasleys he hardly knew. I followed him to hell and came back alive. If Harry says it's ok, I believe him. My best mate deserves that kind of support. You would see that if you'd stop trying to over think everything."

"Ron! I can't believe you. That's the most pig-headed, asinine comment I've ever heard. I do not over think everything. I just think that a calm reasoned approach is what is needed here."

"Whatever, I'm off to bed. You're mental tonight," Ron shrugged and walked off, leaving a very irate Hermione.

"You really think that bastard can be trusted?" Neville asked, sullenly.

"I think it's the best shot we've got," Harry replied earnestly.

"I don't like it, but I think Ron has a point. We'll need help to take that Lestrange and his friend down. You do realize, Harry, that if Black is innocent that means this Pettigrew bloke is the one who basically murdered your parents."

"I suppose. What's your point?"

"Don't you want revenge?" Neville asked perplexed.

"Not at the moment. I'm far more interested in killing the blokes for wanting to hurt my Pri-er… friends."

Neville stood, brushed off his robes casually and stared out the window for a moment. "Better than me then, Harry, but either way I'm with you." The round-faced boy then walked quickly up the stairs to his dormitory, leaving Harry, Ginny and Hermione.

"I just don't know, Harry. We should tell, Professor Dumbledore, or write the Ministry of Magic. If Black is really innocent then they can prove it. I don't want this to turn into something that's going to get someone hurt. We had plenty of that last year."

"And the year before," Harry muttered.

"No, we need to handle this ourselves," Ginny interjected. "Dumbledore might believe us, but he still has to uphold the law, and the Ministry wants Black back in Azkaban post haste. I don't think they're going to take Harry and my word that he's innocent. We might be giving up our only chance to catch Lestrange and Pettigrew. If we can do that then maybe Black will turn himself in and this whole mess will be resolved."

"I suppose," Hermione grumbled. "But if anything goes wrong, we go straight to Professor Dumbledore."

"Sure, Hermione," Harry and Ginny both echoed. "Now let's get to bed, it's late and we've Defence tomorrow with the wolf."

"Harry, why do you always call him that?" Hermione inquired.

"One day Hermione I'll explain it to you. Today is not that day."

AN: Ok folks, here is 31! Now to answer a few potential questions off the bat. Who is 'Grandfather'? He would be the prior patriarch of the Kneazle pride at Hogwarts and chose to step aside rather than fight when he was challenged for succession. Because he chose to do this, the current Father let him hang around. Secondly, why is Ron acting so mature all of a sudden? Several factors really. If you will note, Ron has been a bit more mature in GUK than Canon and I attribute that to the fact that Ron is realizing that Harry might be his best friend, but he likely isn't Harry's. This means that he has less direct competition and with Ron's more direct involvement and a lack of well known first year activity, Harry doesn't have the same status he does in Canon, so there is less to be jealous of. I think hanging around Harry also has a somewhat moderating and maturing effect on his friends. Anyway, let me know what you think and I hope you like it! Working on 32 as we speak.


	32. Excitement of another sort

Ch 32 Excitement of another sort

Harry growled impatiently. Since the conversation in the woods, not a trace of either the rat or Lestrange had been seen. Harry had talked with the entire Pride, as well as the Unicorns, the Hippogriffs and he'd even tried a conversation with the Giant Squid, just in case the tricky buggers had gone under water, and all had turned up nothing this far. They were keeping their ears out, but not a peep. So it was with quick paws that Harry and Ginny headed out with Electrolux to a part of the forest that Harry spent little time in.

'Why are we out here? If you've found something, we'll need Father, Igglebum and the rest of them,' Harry ground out. The small grey Kneazle merely mewled with mirth.

'Oh, I've found something, Boss, but I don't want the rest to see quite yet. I think you should be the first. Well, from what the others told me you were really the first. I was only a kitten at the time, I suppose. She's anxious to meet you too, Boss.'

'Who is, Electrolux?' Ginny said apprehensively. She had a bad feeling about this. From what Harry had told her, young Kneazle's judgment was terribly unsound.

'You'll see, Mrs. Boss. I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise.'

A few minutes more and Harry had reached his breaking point. Here was an area of the forest that Kneazles rarely went. It lacked the Acromantula or other certain death of the rest of the forest, but this was where Unicorns came to die. Harry shivered involuntarily. The trees had mostly died out in this part of the forest, and the ground was black and dried. The air hung thick with the smell of stale petrol and burning oil. That was new, Harry thought. There weren't usually the smells of the city this far into the forest.

'What's that smell?'

'Oh, well, I was hoping you could help,' Electrolux said sheepishly.

'Help what?'

BEEP BEEP! The sound of a car horn blaring drowned out any response. Harry looked up directly into a set of high beam car lights. He felt transfixed. There was nowhere to go or run; if the car wanted it could run him over where he stood. Finally the rough slap of Ginny's large paw knocked him from his trance and sent him sprawling. From the side, the car in front of him looked familiar.

'Paws, it's Daddy's car! The one we crashed last year. It's gone wild.'

'Electrolux, is this who you wanted us to meet?'

'Sure is, Boss. Her name is Angelica.'

Beep, Beep! Honk!

'Hey now, no need to shout. What's the problem?' Harry asked. Of all the things the little grey Kneazle could have brought them to see, this was not one that had crossed Harry's mind.

'She's leaking oil. Has been since the crash last year, but it looks like it's gotten worse since she ran into the chimera this summer.'

'She ran into a chimera?' Ginny exclaimed. 'How did she survive?'

'She's a car, isn't she? Don't think she has the same concerns. However, we need to help. You're kind of human, Boss. Can't you help?' the small grey feline pleaded.

'I don't know the first thing about cars, apart from what Dad Weasley taught me growing up. I think I might know someone who does though.'

'Paws, you're not thinking of…' Ginny trailed off uncertainly.

'Sparkplug, I think it's our best shot. We said we'd trust him, and now we know where to find him. Come on. Electrolux, tell Angie we'll be back in a bit.' With that, Lion and Kneazle set off at a brisk pace back from whence they came, with only the agitated swishing of tails to let a casual observer know that this wasn't the simple errand of a wayward girl and her boy-crush.

As they arrived behind the Shrieking Shack, Harry listened intently. This was where Mr. Black had said for them to meet if they were ever in need of his help, but Harry couldn't smell or hear him at all. He didn't really expect to see the large dog, but the man wasn't trained to conceal himself from a Kneazle of Harry's calibre.

'Mr. Black… Mr. Black!' Harry mewed.

'Harry, let me try. Mr. BLACK!' Ginny's subsequent roar shook the Whomping willow to its roots, Harry was sure.

'Ginny, try not blowing out my ears next time,' Harry admonished.

'It worked didn't it?' Ginny smirked as she pointed one paw towards a rapidly advancing grim-looking hound.

'What problem, pup?' Sirius asked quickly.

Harry merely sighed. Talking to the man as a dog was about as intellectually stimulating as watching Hermione pet Crookshanks. 'Can you fix cars? Hagrid told me you built a motorbike onece.'

'Hagrid have big mouth. Sure am fix cars can. You have car?'

'Angie needs your help. It isn't so much mine, you see, she's kind of wild.'

'What wild car?'

'Never mind. Come on, Mr. Black. If you would lead the way, Sparkplug.' Harry felt almost silly placing his small feline form between Ginny and Mr. Black. It wasn't as though Ginny couldn't very well take care of herself, especially as a lioness. However, something deep and old inside Harry had told him that this is what he should do when his mate was confronted with potential danger.

Mate? Harry shook his head violently; where in Isis' name did that come from? Ginny was his human, even if she did look less than human at the moment. She wasn't a Kneazle and wasn't that what he was?

But are you really a Kneazle? The stupid voice in the back of his mind wouldn't stop asking that. Of course he was a Kneazle. Isis made him that way. He shook his head again and sped up slightly. In all his musing he'd begun to fall behind.

"BEEP BEEP!" the blaring car horn took everyone by surprise.

'It moved,' Ginny said in awe.

'Of course she moved! If one stands still too long, predators will find you. Some can smell an oil leak for miles,' Electrolux explained patiently.

'Isn't that blood they can smell for miles?' Harry asked.

'Same thing, I figure. Now, can this… dog of yours heal Angelina or not?'

'Says he can, but he'll have to be on two legs to do it.'

Electrolux growled. 'I don't mind so much when you or Mrs. Boss do it, Boss, but it really unnerves me when a dog can become a human. We're supposed to protect one and kill the other.'

Harry merely gave a throaty chuckle. 'Easy, boy. No need to get riled up. If Mr. Black says he can repair her, I think he can.'

Sirius, having changed finally to his human state watched the nearly silent communication with awe. He could understand a little, when he was an Animagus, but his godson seemed to be wholly fluent. He also watched the lioness out of the corner of his eye, and Sirius would be willing to wager his wand that she was an Animagus too. Who could it be though? For Harry to have completed his transformation so early, boggled the mind. Took after his father, Sirius remembered. James completed his well before Sirius or Pettigrew.

All of which meant this mysterious student must be an older year, possibly seventh or a very precocious sixth year. Now, why would a seventh-year student be hanging around with a lowly third-year, even if it was the Boy-Who-Lived? Sirius made a mental note to find out who his godson's hanger on was.

"Alright here, Harry. If er… you could ask it to open the hood I'd appreciate it."

"Merow…" Harry replied and in an instant Sirius was scraping the dustiest corners of his mind trying to remember what everything on this Muggle contraption was. He'd worked on a Harley-Davidson, and while he did rebuild nearly all of it, this Ford was a bit of a different story.

After a minute of staring, Sirius located the problem. "I'm guessing your oil pan has a crack in it."

The look from all assorted felines clearly read, 'how can you tell,' so Sirius pressed on. "I'm not seeing any fluids leaking up top and I noticed a few drips every time she sits still. I'm guessing that is what the problem is."

"Can you fix it?" Sirius jumped as Harry spoke, not having noticed his godson's return to human form.

"Well, a simple 'Reparo' might work, but I'm guessing with all the other enchantments on it, another spell might do more damage than good. I think we're going to have to replace it. I'll need to take a look underneath to be sure."

HONK! The Ford Anglia let out a long ear-splitting wail of the horn that had everyone present grabbing at their ears. A second later, Harry and the small grey Kneazle were in a furious discussion. Sirius finally became a little concerned when Harry's face went ashen.

"You can't do that, Mr. Black. Looking underneath a car is tantamount to getting your testicles grabbed in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. Isn't there another way you can do it?"

"Harry, you're telling me that this car is offended by me wanting to take a look at the undercarriage?"

Harry nodded once. Sirius sighed. "Look, I don't pretend to understand the sensibilities of magically enchanted automobiles, but someone needs to go under there and make sure what I think is wrong, really is. If not, we're doing this whole exercise for nothing."

Harry nodded several times and again went into deep conversation with his grey furry companion.

"How, and can you do it?"

"The repair is simple enough, Harry, on a regular machine, but we're not working on a regular machine. I have to drain the oil, replace the pan and then refill her. Not too complicated, but it might take some time and a little out of school magic. Have they taught you to levitate things in Charms yet?"

"Of course they have, old man," Harry replied with something Sirius thought sounded like a challenge.

"Then I'm going to need you to levitate this old girl up so I can work a bit underneath. Once we get the parts, I mean."

"We need parts?"

"Of course we do, Harry. I know the bloke to order them from too, but you'll have to do it as I'm sure my name is none too welcome in certain circles right now."

"Not a problem. The owls have warmed up to me, I think"

"You've not tried to dip them in mustard sauce, have you?" Sirius chortled.

"No, but… Hmm… mustard sauce. Could be good, maybe with some red wine and a little garlic," Harry's quiet musings were suddenly cut off by a tempest of yowling from both Ginny and Electrolux.

'Harry! Someone just screamed from the castle! It sounds serious.'

Harry's eyes widened in concern. "Let's get going then, give me a second."

'No, Boss, we'll need your wand. Jump in; Angelina said she'll get us there in two shakes of a rabbit's tail.'

Nodding, both Harry and Ginny piled in. The situation being somewhat complicated by the fact that Ford never designed the front seats to hold a fully grown lioness, it took slightly longer to get going than Harry wanted.

"Harry, what's going on?" Sirius asked, very confusedly.

"Trouble at the castle, Mr. Black. I believe you'd better stay here. We don't want you spotted do we?" With that, the blue Ford dug her wheels into the hard earth and began rapidly closing on the exterior of the Gryffindor tower.

'Paws, look!' Ginny motioned with one paw at two retreating figures on brooms that had just departed the Gryffindor Tower.

"Change back, Sparkplug. I have a bad feeling about what just happened. We have to get back. Electrolux, go tell Father: patrol pattern red fur. Let the Unicorns know too. If those bastards can get in, we need the whole forest on alert." Harry and Ginny jumped out of the car and raced for their common room. Through sheer luck they managed to arrive there unmolested. What they found was more than Harry could handle.

Professors McGonagall, Snape, Lupin and Dumbledore stood in the common room with wands brandished. Several other Gryffindor students stood dumbstruck around the perimeter while a sobbing Hermione cradled a semi-conscious Ron. Madam Pomfrey's attempts at cajoling the young witch into releasing him seemed to no avail.

"What happened?" Ginny whispered.

"Death Eaters," Neville replied, causing both his friends to jump. They'd been so absorbed in the scene before them they failed to notice their pudgy friend slide next to them.

"What? How could they get in here?" Ginny gasped.

"What did they want?" Harry growled.

"Dunno, mate. They just kept asking 'where is she'. It didn't make a lot of sense to anyone because we figured they'd be after you first, Harry. Then the tall bugger just started firing curses off at anyone that moved. A couple of first years were hit, but Ron got the worst of it."

Ginny paled and squeaked. It hadn't quite sunk in yet that her brother might be seriously injured. "How… what?" was all she could say. Neville's eyes tightened.

"Hermione sent out a shielding spell to protect a crew of second years that had been driven in a corner. She cast it on the run. It was a brilliant piece of spell work, but she was trying to head up the stairs to the girls' rooms and she tripped. The tall bastard rounded on her did a nice full body bind, and then made a big to do about how she couldn't get away, but he could still hear her scream."

Neville took a few deep breaths. The strain of reliving the event was obvious to both Harry and Ginny, but their friend continued. "Then, he got knocked silly." Neville chuckled darkly at the confused looks on Harry and Ginny's faces. "Your noble, stupid prat of a brother has a wicked pitching arm, Ginny. He hit that troll in the back of the head with his stone chess board. It knocked him for a loop, too."

Ginny bit off an involuntary giggle at the thought of it. Neville smirked sadly. "We all kind of laughed too, but that git stood straight up, wand brandished and told the short one to 'get the hell away from Hermione.' I guess your brother isn't quite as fast as a Death Eater because he cursed your brother. Used an Unforgivable."

Ginny gasped, Harry looked a little confused, but resolved to ask about it later.

"Cruciatus, it was. Held it on him for two, maybe three minutes. Poor sod wasn't half awake when Dumbledore made it through the picture way."

"How did they get in?" Harry finally asked.

"Didn't you see the picture frame? The Fat Lady's picture was blasted to hell and gone," Neville replied.

"They blasted their way in? I thought there were enchantments and things to keep people like that out!" Ginny whispered violently.

"There are, Sparkplug. Professor Flitwick talked a bit about them a few weeks ago in class. Even the strongest wall can be breached, though. Volder-knob got into Gringotts two years ago, without blasting the place apart. It isn't surprising that a couple of his knob waxers could blow past a few enchantments meant to keep out overly amorous students and their sexy, sexy plans."

The conversation was stalled by a loud wail from Hermione. Madam Pomfrey had finally managed to pry the limp Ron from her arms and had placed him gently on a hovering stretcher. The room stood silent, except for the wracking sobs of the bushy haired young witch as the youngest Weasley male was levitated slowly out of the room.

"I think it is best for everyone to return to their respective rooms immediately. Members of the staff will be standing guard here for the foreseeable future so you need not be alarmed," rang out the commanding voice of Hogwarts' Headmaster. Most of the students nodded a numbed assent and began to slowly climb the stairs to their beds as the teachers filed out of the common room. As soon as the last professor had vacated the space, Ginny was at Hermione's side.

She tried whispering comforting words, but Hermione just kept sobbing. "It's all my fault… all my fault," the distraught girl repeated over and over.

Finally Harry decided to give it a try. "Bollix! You didn't curse him and I don't think you asked for those smarmy rat-gits to either. We don't blame you, and I'm sure Ron won't either."

"You don't understand," Hermione whispered. "Ron got hurt because of me. If I hadn't tripped he never would have had to undo that body-bind and he wouldn't have gotten hurt. He saved me you know. I suppose the other wizard thought he was just a bad aim, but he undid the curse on me and I got away. If he isn't alright, I'll never forgive myself. What was that spell, anyway?"

"Cruciatus Curse. The pain curse. It's supposed to be worse than a thousand white hot knives digging into your head at the same time. Can drive people insane if they are exposed for too long," Neville replied from a distance. It seemed the boy had better hearing than they thought.

Hermione broke into a fresh round of sobs, earning Neville reproving glares from both his friends. "What? I thought she wanted to know," he said, defensively.

"Not the time, arse," Ginny muttered as she tried to comfort the once again sobbing witch.

Harry stood and strode purposefully out the portrait hole, ignoring the questioning of Professor McGonagall standing guard. He was a Kneazle on a mission. It was time he collected on a few favours owed.

On his way out, Harry could have sworn he heard Neville mutter, "I'm going to kill him. I promise."

oOo

As the Quidditch matches approached, Oliver Wood was becoming increasingly more driven to win. They'd manage to keep the Cup for two years in a row and Oliver wanted his time at Hogwarts to end on a happy note. "We've got the best damn team this school has seen since Charlie Weasley played and I'll be buggered on a broomstick if we lose this year."

Harry and the rest of the team nodded assent. It seemed that no one really minded the overly long Quidditch practices. It seemed the only thing to take the team's collective mind off the recent intrusion and the still hospital-bound condition of Ron. The twins especially seemed to be throwing themselves into their beating duties with fervent abandon.

"Wood, I've got to get to lessons!" Harry shouted, having suddenly noticed what time it was, and not waiting for a reply shot straight for the open window of the defence room, barely beating the start of lessons as he sunk into his seat, broom tucked safely behind him.

"Lucky thing you're on time, mate, but don't you think wearing Quidditch robes, even if practice ones, is a bit… obvious?" Seamus asked from in front of him.

"No more so than being half leprechaun," Harry replied.

At this, Dean let out a roar of laughter and Seamus' eyes merely slitted. "For the last time, mate, I'm not half anything,"

Further commentary was silenced by the entrance of Professor Snape. "I will be filling in for Professor Lupin today. Now as I have reviewed his lesson plan and found it woefully inadequate I will try to bring your level of competency up to..." Snape halted there for a moment as he took in the still Quidditch-clad form of his least favourite student. "Mr. Potter, is there a reason you chose to flaunt your status on the Quidditch pitch, or are you simply indulging your fan club-fantasies?"

Harry stared back at his second least favourite professor. "A little bit of both I suppose. I was trying to make it here on time, Professor. Would it help if I wasn't wearing it?"

"I doubt anything could help your abysmal skill in this or any other class, Mr. Potter," Snape shot back. "Now, open your books to page 364. We will be studying werewolves."

"Excuse me Professor, but we were supposed to do Hinkypunks next," Hermione interjected.

"Ten points for talking out of turn, Miss Granger. This is not a discussion, open your books to 364 and we WILL be studying werewolves." The entire class grumbled inaudibly, except for one student. Harry immediately had his book open. While he despised the man, Professor Snape certainly knew how to get the young man's attention.

Forty-five minutes later, Professor Snape was experiencing a sensation altogether new to him and he wasn't sure if he approved. The Potter brat was… learning. It wasn't that he'd gone out of his way to prevent the little toad from learning in potions, it was just obvious the offspring of his most hated enemy had as much talent with a cauldron as the Dark Lord had at fathering unicorns. The boy had his hand up for at least the twelfth time during class and as much as he would like to have dismissed the boy's questions as those of an imbecile, Potter had a real talent for asking difficult to answer questions.

"Yes, Potter?" Snape spat. Just because the boy wasn't acting the complete fool didn't mean he had to like him. now did it?

"Professor, I was wondering, while it says that werewolves are part human, they also seem to be part wolf. What kind of scent would they have?"

Snape narrowed his eyes. "When you get close enough to smell one, please let me know. I would imagine that of a rabid dog. Now, if you are through with your ridiculous questioning, I would like to resume teaching. That's ten points from Gryffindor for wasting valuable class time," Snape growled.

"One more thing professor."

"What now, Potter?" Snape felt any lack of compunction against punishing the boy slipping quickly away.

"Well, you said they were particularly sensitive to silver. That leads to the logical conclusion that silver weapons would be the most effective way of disposing of them. Does it have to be any special kind of silver, or will Goblin Silver work as well?"

Snape felt his mouth drop open a little bit. He really never imagined that even the son of James Potter could be this dense. His mother was after all… The Potions Professor shut his eyes for a moment. No need to go there as he gathered his response.

"Potter, that's a detention you've earned for wasting class time with your asinine round of questioning. You actually propose to attack a fully feral werewolf, one of the darkest creatures known to Wizarding-kind with a silver candlestick?"

"No, Professor, with a knife," Harry replied.

"Potter, despite your egomaniacal delusions of grandeur, I doubt even you could so much as scratch a werewolf, but to answer your question Goblin silver would work just as well as a stick made from silver sickles. Now if we may continue…"

As the lesson concluded Harry found himself appreciating the greasy git more than he had in a long time. Werewolves were an interesting and useful topic, and something kept nibbling in the back of his head, something about that Lupin man.

"Harry, are you coming to see Ron? I have to give him the notes from our lessons," Hermione hurried, shaking Harry from his contemplative state.

"Sure, Hermione. You know, if you keep doing his work for him he may never recover," Harry smirked.

"Harry!" Hermione looked scandalized. "I'll have you know he's doing much better. He told me the healers from St. Mungo's said he was lucky really. The dark wizard that did the curse wasn't very good at it. They said he'll make a full recovery."

Harry grimaced slightly. "Hermione, they said he'll mostly recover and you tell me the same thing any time I make a joke about our fiery friend. Ron's going to be ok, I know that and so does he. Even if he can't chase rabbits with the rest of us, it isn't like he's dead now, is it?"

Harry stopped abruptly. Hermione had gone paler than Peeves. "He could have been, couldn't he? I mean he really could have. He saved me, and I'll never be able to repay that."

"I don't think he wants you to, Hermione."

oOo

'Why won't that greasy manticore-wanker shut his gob already?' Igglebum complained. Harry merely smirked. In addition to the teachers guarding the damaged portrait hole, Harry thought that a bit more sophisticated help might be needed to keep his Pride safe. So he had arranged that four Kneazles would be on duty at all times to thwart the nefarious plans of 'manticore-wanking sexsticks' as Igglebum had termed them. While most of the teachers had taken a sort of resigned acceptance to the strange behaviours of the local wildlife, Professor Snape still insisted on actively trying to shoo the protective felines. His impotent attempts had caused a great deal of amusement among the forest Pride and so even Harry had begun taking his turn guarding the portrait hole. This was doubly true when Snape was going to be the man watching it.

'Who cares? Pee on his shoes if you like. That ought to shut him up,' Harry replied as he stood and stretched. It had been a long night and there was Quidditch this fine morning so breakfast needed to be caught in a hurry if he was to be in top shape. 'Don't burn the place down; I'll be back in the afternoon.'

'Let me know how that goes,' Igglebum fired back. 'Imagine, a Kneazle flying. I don't think even Isis could have imagined that.'

'Ehh, I can catch birds more easily, that's for certain.'

'Oh, Father and the rest of them will be out to watch, I think. I told them about it the other day. They're quite curious. Especially as to why you've never mentioned it before.'

'Never seemed appropriate. I don't know how decent the viewing will be, you'll be in the trees won't you?'

'I suppose so. Either way, we'll be watching.' Igglebum grinned as his friend sauntered off. Really, a Kneazle flying, who could have dreamed?

Four hours later after a bath and a fat rabbit, Harry was scouring the pitch for the Snitch. The Hufflepuff's Seeker was good, Harry had to give him that, but Harry was better. The boy he was playing against hadn't spent his whole life honing razor sharp hunting reflexes. If only he could spot the blasted thing! The rain and gusting winds were making tracking anything exceedingly difficult.

There it was! High above him the gold looked dull among the storm clouds, but the intrepid Seeker shot after his prize like an arrow from a bow. Harry could hear the cursing of his opponent as he tried in vain to catch up. Suddenly things began to become fuzzy. Harry looked down for a moment and saw a hundred of Sirius' dogged Dementors floating across the pitch with their hoods pointed up at him. Harry could feel the strength draining from his limbs as the Anubis' dark magic worked its crafty spell on him.

'Must catch bird,' was the last thought he had, before tumbling off his broom to the sound of a blaring car horn.

"Meroww!"

Harry jerked awake to the loud sound of caterwauling Kneazles. He was soaked, but warm due to the presence of several mollies on his chest doing their best to act as a living blanket.

'Well, you're awake, aren't you? Father will want to know. We barely got you out of there before those Dementeds bit you.'

"Ughhh… where am I?" Harry replied. His eye sight was still a little fuzzy and the pounding of his head did nothing for his waking comprehension.

'Silly, you're in the guest den. Father had it made for you last year in case something like this happened. You do seem to attract quite a bit of attention don't you?' the molly known as Rex said. She then began to purr in a manner that made Harry's stomach flip-flop.

"Wait, how did you get me out of there? I mean I'm human, for the moment anyway."

'Some of the toms did it. They rode in with the wierdo's new friend, Angelina, what she sees in him I'll never understand. Anyway, they rode in there and hitched your robes to the bumpit… bumpo… no that's not it…'

"Bumper," Harry supplied.

'Bumper, yes. Well they looped your robed around the bumper and Angelina dragged you out of the Demented's way, until they could get you safely into one of the seats and bring you hear for the propurr… attention,' Rex finished, wiggling her whiskers suggestively. 'I only wish you had more legs, humans have no idea what a tongue is for.' With that she leaped off lightly and began grooming her fur as she made her way out of the den.

The other two mollies looked after her with varying shades of disgust. 'Come on,' the first one said. 'We need to get you back with your people. Mog said they've been raising an awful stink about the whole situation. And ignore Rex, she's in heat.'

'Perpetually,' the other molly muttered.

"So those were Dementors after me?" Harry asked. His memory was hazy at best.

'They were, from what our toms say. Father is worrying they'll come after the kittens next, but we think they were just investigating the humans.'

"Likely, trust in Isis and we'll get through this," he replied. Harry crawled out of the den and stood, dusting himself off. "Thank you ladies, but as you said, I do have to get going."

'Of course, but Mum wants to see you off first."

Harry grudgingly accepted the minor request and after six inspections and two offers of a full fur grooming and one more less-than-subtle proposition by Rex, Harry was declared fit to return to the world of humans under his own power.

What he met with at the gates of Hogwarts really shouldn't have surprised him at all.

_AN: Thanks everyone for sticking with this. Due to writers block and a multitude of personal issues, including a move, GUK has been on hold somewhat. However! My muse has struck in small portions and is gently prodding me towards the next chapter and inexorably the end of GUK. I hope the next story flows a bit better, I have some wonderful ideas for the Tri-Wizard tournament. And to forestall any complaints as to Ron's condition, yes he really did distract a Death Eater to save Hermione. He may be a thick headed git sometimes (less so here) but he is in Gryffindor for a reason. Never said it was a good idea, but he did so none the less. No, he isn't dead and no, I don't have any plans of writing him out. This is just the turn of events things took._


	33. Flighty Friends

Ch 33

"Harry, you're alive!" Hermione shrieked, tears of relief and joy streaming down her face. Harry returned with a slight grin.

"Yeah, I guess so. Unless I'm someone else under Polyjuice potion, you might want to check that."

Professor McGonagall turned a very stern eye to her wayward student. While she was grateful he had returned, it wouldn't do to have students randomly disappearing like that. "Mr. Potter, while I certainly can't fault you for being kidnapped in the manner in which you were, I must insist that you accompany me to the Hospital, for a thorough inspection by Madam Pomfrey."

"I'm fine, Professor," Harry shrugged and tried to move past his elderly teacher. He was prevented by a very firm grip on his shoulder.

"I'm afraid I must insist," McGonagall repeated, with a touch of steel in her voice. Harry wilted. She was looking after his best interests he supposed and what was the worst that could happen? He'd at least get to say hello to Ron, who was the first person to notice when he arrived. Madam Pomfrey's thorough instructions came immediately following.

"Harry! How are you doing, mate? You gave everyone a real fright," Ron exclaimed, sitting up slightly. It was obvious that despite his enthusiastic greeting, Ron wasn't quite back to his old self.

"What would you know about it? You've been up here skiving off classes all week," Harry teased.

"Prat. Seriously though, did you really get kidnapped by a bunch of Kneazles and Dad's old car?"

"Sort of. I don't know if it really counts as kidnapping, they were just trying to look after me."

"I'm surprised Professor Dumbledore didn't hex the lot," Ron mused.

Harry's complexion darkened at his friend's comment. "Dumbledore doesn't hurt the innocent, I wouldn't think. He knows better than to accost the forest Pride as well."

"Right, I know that. I just thought it a bit weird that after you fell off your broom he did all that fancy wand work just to have you snatched by an old car and a pack of big cats. Doesn't really seem in character for the old man, does it?"

"Ron, you weren't at the match. How do you know what happened?"

"Hermione," Ron said, simply.

"Well I'm fine, even if I've been given a mandate to eat this great big bar of chocolate and stay here for the night."

Ron merely rolled his eyes. "You're not going to are you?"

"Eat the chocolate or stay here for the night?"

"Either."

"Nope," Harry replied, throwing half the bar to Ron. "I'll eat half, find out how you are and then I'm out the window, I think."

Ron shook his head at his friend's antics. To see Harry safe and returned in one piece meant more to him than he'd admit publicly. When Hermione had come in wailing incoherently, Ron had been on the verge of getting out of bed before he was roughly restrained by an angry Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm alright, yeah. He-who-must-never-get-shagged and his bloody wanker patrol can't keep a Weasley down for long," Ron said tiredly. His earlier burst of energy beginning to catch up with him.

"How'd Mum Weasley take it? They wouldn't let anyone except family in till just a few days ago."

"I know, Harry, thanks for the new chess board by the way. I suppose the other one got ruined. Bloody stupid thing to do. If I'd been thinking properly I'd have hexed the bloke with his back turned," Ron snorted.

"Ron, you saved her life, and even if you got hurt, you lived. So learn from the mistake and don't make it again. You still didn't answer my question."

"I know, mate. Mum… was Mum I suppose. She cried a lot and got angry a bit and Dad didn't say much as usual. Except right before he left."

"What did he say?" Harry pressed.

"I'm proud of you son. That was it."

Harry smiled slightly. "That was all he had to say."

"I know, and as strange as it is it meant more to me as all of Mum's ranting or George and Fred's promises of vengeance or even Ginny admitting I might actually be her favourite brother. I don't know why."

"No idea, Ron. What are the chances of you getting out of bed anytime soon?" Harry asked quickly, trying to change the topic.

"Hehe… Tomorrow, mate. There were two other healers in here this morning, and they say that I'll walk again with a bit of help most likely. Won't be playing football with Dean anytime soon, but it isn't going to keep me off my feet."

"Good to hear, Ron. You'll be playing pickup Quidditch in no time!" Harry crowed, and immediately regretted it at the downcast look that crossed the other boy's face.

"Ehh… Harry, that's the thing. Don't know if I'll be playing Quidditch for awhile. Healers said I had some nerve damage that could cause me to pass out or be a bit unsteady. Not really something you want a hundred feet up is it?"

"How long?"

Even with Harry's acute hearing he had to strain to hear Ron's response. "Mebbe never…"

"Prrt!" The melodious voice of Crookshanks rang through the nearly deserted Hospital wing.

Ron seemed to take the opportunity for a distraction. "This little bloke has been visiting me every night. Can't figure why, I mean we didn't get on when we first met, but the little bastard grows on you."

Harry noted the improvement in Ron's mood and stood to leave, having hastily finished his half bar of chocolate. "I guess I'll see you around, mate. Sounds like Madam Pomfrey is just closing up. I'll see you at breakfast."

"Who says I'll be at breakfast? Maybe I'll have a lie in," Ron retorted. Harry fixed his friend with a withering glare.

"You're Ron Weasley, and you never miss a meal. Man after my own heart. And you," Harry continued fixing his gaze on Crookshanks. "We'll discuss this when you're finished here." With that Harry headed to the window and made a dazzling leap landing with grace and poise next to a very startled Argus Filch.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Filch asked in a tone not at all welcoming.

"A student out of bed, by the looks of it," Harry replied, noticing that in his surprise, the caretaker had failed to continue on his rounds to finish locking the castle doors.

"No respect at all. In my day you'd have gotten the chains in the dungeon, but what should we do with you now, then?" Filch continued, bearing down on the slightly smaller student.

"Chase me I should think," Harry replied solemnly.

"And why, boy, should I chase you?"

"Because of this… GOT YOUR CONK!" Harry yelled as he reached forward and grabbed the caretakers nose forcefully and sweeping a leg from underneath the older man, a move Sebastian had demonstrated over the summer. Filch, falling sideways heard the scampering of feet as he held his aching proboscis, cursing the brazenness of the students and the ineffectual Professors that ran the school. He would chase the brat down, as soon as his eyes stopped watering.

oOo

"Come on Paws, what's got your pants all bunched?" Ginny said for the seemingly hundredth time Harry sighed. He supposed since his little escapade last night he'd been a bit moody, but everything was just so backwards. He'd talked to Crookshanks who'd admitted a grudging respect and obligation to Ron for protecting his human, when Crookshanks himself couldn't. Harry sensed there might actually be a friendship forming there if either could let go of first impressions.

He kept thinking about Ron, now out of hospital and very present at breakfast, who would be walking with a cane for the foreseeable future. He was thinking about Angelina and the Kneazles' daring rescue of him, and that was what bothered him the most. He was the one supposed to be doing the protecting, but how was he supposed to protect anyone, whether Ginny or his Pride, when he kept passing out from Dementors. A sudden thought popped into his mind.

"Ginny, how did the Professor Wolf drive off the Dementor on the train?"

"Firstly Harry, it's Lupin, and secondly how should I know? He made some silvery thing come out of his wand and the Dementor went away. He said it was a Patronus Charm or something."

Harry grinned and scanned the head table, noticing the absence of the wolfish professor. A sudden course of action formed in his mind. "You're a life saver Sparkplug." With that he left a mostly uneaten breakfast behind and dashed out of the Great Hall, leaving behind a very confused group of Gryffindors.

"You think he's coming back to finish that?" Ron asked no one in particular.

"Honestly, Ron, you're disgusting," Hermione chastised.

Harry for his part was rushing to the one place his mind was directing him. Arriving at the open door of the Defence classroom, Harry was relieved to see the Professor he needed to see calmly working over a small aquarium.

"Professor, you can help me," Harry burst out. Asking help from a dog was bad enough, but the man' overpowering sense of wolf was telling Harry to run in the completely opposite direction. It took all his willpower to not bolt from the door, but this was something he needed.

"Something I can do for you, Mr. Potter?" the older man replied, his tone hardly welcoming yet not yet openly hostile.

"Yes, there is," Harry forged on, oblivious to his own demanding tone. "You need to teach me to repel Dementors."

Lupin's eyebrows met his hairline in record speed. "I see. Do you have any idea on how one might even do that?"

"The Patronus Charm."

"I see," Lupin sighed. A small part of him still wanted to help the odd son of his schoolboy friend, but he wouldn't waste his or the boy's time. "Mr. Potter, I'm sorry to say, but I don't believe you have the capacity to produce a Patronus at this time. Your marks in my class are passable at best, and I've spoken with Professor Flitwick. He says your charms aren't any better. With two out of three practical magic courses on this level, I'm afraid this charm would be beyond your capabilities. I don't mean to be discouraging, but I don't wish to waste your time attempting to learn a charm that I seriously doubt you have the skill to perform. Please don't feel badly, many adult wizards have difficulty performing this spell," the older man finished as kindly as he could.

Harry's face tightened into an inscrutable mask. "I see… what would one have to do to prove to you then, Professor, that one had the ability to perform a charm of this magnitude?"

Lupin smiled slightly. Just like James, he recalled, when he got an idea into his mind that boy wouldn't let go, and it seemed neither would his son. "I don't know, Mr. Potter. Perform at O levels on the next set of exams, kill a manticore, become and Animagus. You know the usual." Lupin said easily. He'd given his young charge three nearly impossible feats, but he was curious to the young Wizard's dedication. If Harry managed to perform at O levels on the next comprehensive exam before Christmas break, then he's seriously consider granting the young boy's request. It wasn't likely that he'd be able to perform at such a level, but it was always possible.

"All three, Professor, or just one?"

"Just one, Harry, and before you ask…" Lupin stopped dead. Before him was a very agitated black Kneazle where a young boy had just been. It was impossible, wasn't it? It had taken James and Sirius three and a half years to work it out. How had a third year been able to change with such fluidity?

Harry smirked as his professor's jaw dropped several inches. Only after a minute did the man regain his composure enough to close the gaping hole beneath his nose. Deciding the demonstration complete, Harry changed back to his more Human self and grinned wickedly. "Now, Professor, anything else you need?"

oOo

"Paws, slow down. We only need one pig at this table, and Ron has already claimed the honour," Ginny admonished the boy next to her. Harry slowed down a fraction at the heat in her voice. Ron merely stopped for a second in mid chew to glare at his sister.

"Sorry, Sparkplug, but I have to get to Lupin's class. Extra credit, you know."

Ron and Ginny both looked at their friend with something akin to horror and scepticism, but Hermione seemed genuinely pleased. "I'm so glad you've started taking things a bit more seriously. I know you haven't been doing the best in that class," the bushy haired witch beamed.

"Harry, is this the same professor that not two weeks ago you called a 'manky, kitten-eating, wolf git?'" Ron finally piped in.

"Yeah, but a lot can happen in two weeks. Dementors put a whole new spin on things. So, if you don't mind I have to get going. Otherwise I might miss something important, like Potions." Harry stood and rushed off from breakfast, hoping to take advantage of yet another of Professor Lupin's private lessons.

"No, you need a very powerful memory, Harry. You've been doing well and made more progress than I hoped, but you've not faced a Dementor yet. Everything gets harder when you're under pressure. Now, I want you to think of the happiest memory you can muster and really concentrate."

Harry tried again. He'd thought of everything, it seemed. He'd imagined his first kill, his first broom ride, even so far as trying to picture the way Rex's hips swayed in the guest den. The last had certainly been the least successful for reasons Harry couldn't quite grasp.

Now he was getting frustrated and desperate. He didn't think he had any more really happy memories that would suffice and all he had managed was a thick white incorporeal Patronus blob. Not good enough for defending his Pride, or his Ginny.

His Ginny… Harry's mind went into overdrive and a memory of sorts materialized quickly. "_Expecto Patronum!_" Harry roared. Focusing all his mental might on the happiest memory (or possibly daydream) he could find Harry managed a small smile as a fully formed Bengal tiger exploded from the tip of his wand, did a lap around the classroom and disappeared without a trace.

Professor Lupin let out a long whistle. "And that, Harry, is NEWT level magic. Congratulations, I take back most of the uncharitable things I have thought about your work this year. Of course, it will be considerably more difficult when facing down Dementors in the flesh, but hopefully you won't have to deal with them further. I am proud of you, Harry." Only Harry's acute sense of hearing allowed him to hear the rest. "Your father would be too."

Harry smiled briefly, and realized that the wolfish Professor was right, both of them would be. Well, Harry thought they would be anyway. He could only ask one. 

"Thank you Professor. What now?" Harry finally said.

"Another week or two of consistent practice and I'll let you on your own. It is only a pity we can't train you against a real Dementor, under suitable circumstances of course."

Harry smiled slowly. "There are about a hundred to go pick from, Professor. I should think any one of them would do nicely."

Lupin's face suddenly became hard. He recognized the smile dancing across the boy's face. He'd seen it on James' plenty of times. "Harry, under no circumstances are you to go practicing on real Dementors! They are dangerous and if you're caught, they won't care that you're only a schoolboy, do you understand me?"

Harry nodded quickly, a little too quickly for Lupin's liking, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. In the end Harry rushed off to his first class of the day, Muggle Studies. Professor Burbage was not one to tolerate lateness.

Harry walked out of Muggle Studies very confused. Hermione was in that class with him, and while he hadn't thought much of it before, he realized that she had also been in Divination which happened to be at the same time. It was odd, Harry thought, that Ron hadn't said anything about Hermione dropping the one to take the other.

Potions was next, Harry remembered and despite the fact that Hermione was going to be rather upset, Harry decided that today was far too nice for sitting in underground classrooms and with that he deviated sharply out to the grounds. He had some friends that needed catching up with.

'My young knight of the lower realm, how do you do?' Came the loud squawk of Sir Gordon from the pen of Hippogriffs.

'Not doing badly. What has Hagrid decided for you?' Harry mewed.

'Nothing yet, Sir Harry. We haven't been allowed in the air for some time. The Ferret Man thinks we might be allowed in another week or two, but he also said we might be sent back.'

'Sent back where?' Harry asked quickly.

'Oh, you know… back to where we came from, with the others. Now, how are you after the most awful fall you suffered, from a broomstick no less!' Sir Robin asked, quickly changing the subject.

'Oh, I'm doing fine. I have been working on some magic to make sure that doesn't happen again. Thank you for your concern though.'

'No trouble at all. It is right that we look after a young man of so noble a standing as you. However, I do hope that you've learned your lesson about flying on such dangerous contraptions as a broomstick. In the future I would advise you only to take to the skies with a noble and judicious guide such as us.'

Harry laughed softly. The Hippogriffs were always so amusing. 'I suppose. My captain has been on me to get a new broom ever since I lost the last one, so I suppose I will have to make do with that.'

The shocked looks on all four of the Hippogriffs' faces startled Harry. Their previous joking seemed no longer quite so innocent as the four gathered their heads together with quietly whispered words.

'Sir Harry, we must object most strongly to this plan of yours,' Sir Gawain began.

'Indeed, it would not do for a Knight of the Lower Realm to again be subjected to such a life threatening injury as you have faced prior. We must demand that one of us accompany you to your next tournament, where we will lead you to victory!' Gordon finished.

'I suppose so?' Harry said slowly. 'I must make sure that this would be legal in the rules of my… tournament.'

'Of course you must. One must obey the proper forms of a tournament. We will abide by that. Now brothers, let us send off our young Knight with a resounding huzzah!'

'Wait, what?'

'This is the part where you go make sure we may bear you aloft and contribute to your noble goal of tournament victory,' Sir Robin whispered conspiratorially.

"Kreahhh!" The resounding eagle screams shook Harry's small body and he ran off quickly to try and find Ron.

Unfortunately, Harry remembered Ron was likely in Potions class and as such would not be in any condition to ask, so instead he decided to prowl about the castle until the walking Quidditch encyclopaedia might become available to ask. Harry didn't want to ask Wood because he was sure his captain would have a fit about the whole premise, and he certainly didn't want to ask a teacher or Madam Hooch just in case they made a rule forbidding it just for him. So that left Ron, who admittedly had wide gaps in his overall knowledge of Quidditch and the rules, but overall was a sound resource and Quidditch was the one thing that Ron would willingly brave the library to research.

Harry was amazed at how populated the castle was despite the vast majority of students having classes. Perhaps more than he thought had decided to skive off, although most of them seemed locked in amorous pursuits in various shadowed portions of the castle. Then Harry ran into the last thing he had ever expected.

'Oh, Norris, you silly molly, where are you? You won't get away from me that easily,' the sickeningly melodious voice of Crookshanks.

'Over here my powerful mouser. You are a feast of tom and I seem to be the only guest,' came the reply from a voice Harry hadn't heard before, though obviously molly in nature.

Harry's curiosity warred with his sickened notion of just what was going on, but as in all Kneazles the former won. Rounding the corner on autopilot, Harry saw one of the most shocking sights of his life. There was his friend, Mog, Crookshanks to the half-Kneazle's staff, presenting a freshly caught mouse to none other than Mrs. Norris the caretaker's feline. Harry stood and stared for a moment, praying that this wasn't what it seemed. Crookshanks shouldn't be involved in this. Not only did Harry not approve of frivolous relationships among his fellow felines, it was with Mrs. Norris of all cats. It wasn't that she wasn't a stunning molly, but after every time she'd gotten one of his friends in trouble, she'd certainly left a bad taste in his mouth.

'Ohh… a mouse? For me? Crookshanks, you shouldn't have. Why I'll get blood all over my whiskers,' Norris purred.

Harry could smell the pheromones radiating off the pair as the orange half-Kneazle replied, 'Then my dearest molly, I will simply have to clean them off, won't I?'

With that statement, Harry departed from his vantage point in an attempt to find caustic chemicals to cleanse his eyes.

With Harry's mind preoccupied and being quite sure that the feline patrol squad was also otherwise engaged, Harry hardly watched where he was headed. Which was a good thing in that by some coincidence of fate, he wound up in front of the Potions classroom just as it was letting out. However, as the scraping of chairs signalled the end of another round of Snape-induced indigestion, Harry decided that it would be easier to talk to Ron as a human. Harry forgot that Snape would not have missed his presence.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. A tad late are we?" Snape began as soon as he spotted the wayward student.

"No, Professor, it looks like I'm just in time. If you will excuse me, I have a question to ask a friend of mine."

"Mr. Potter," Snape began a little more forcefully. "I've met boys like you before, but I do believe you are missing something here."

Harry looked at his professor with a quizzical expression, while his mind was going lightspeed. What had he forgotten? Wand, robes, knife… they were all there. Without realizing it, Harry grabbed his groin and lifted slightly just to make sure the most important bits hadn't run off. Deciding that Snape must be wrong, he cheerfully told the now fuming professor so.

"Detention, for a week, Potter, and fifty points from Gryffindor for skipping class and your cheek!" Snape roared.

"Oh, well then, would that be this week or next week?" Harry shot back.

"Starting tonight," Snape ground out. Harry for his part breathed a sigh of relief. He had heard the weather was supposed to turn nastier and what better time to serve detention than when it wasn't really fit to be outside anyway? The petulant potions professor could really have a shred of decency every once in awhile, Harry marvelled.

"Oh, well see you tonight, then, Professor." With that Harry shot over to Ron and began pressing his friend for his extensive Quidditch Knowledge.

"Harry!" Ron hissed as he hobbled away from the dungeons, "What are you thinking? Fifty points and where were you today?"

Harry merely snorted. "Don't worry so much, Ron. Now, about Quidditch. Do you have to use a broom?"

Ron stopped and leaned heavily against the wall, thinking. "Erm… there aren't specific rules that say you have to. I mean they banned the use of flying carpets, but I think that was more to clear up a few things than any real disregard for the flying carpet. But who would really want to play on anything else? Brooms have better acceleration, pinpoint control and much higher dive and climb rates than anything else out there, unless you've decided to try and catch the bloody Snitch from the ground. The only thing the International Quidditch Body says on the subject is 'no magical means or alterations may be used by the players to affect the outcome of the match.' So, no Summoning Charms or any fancy wand work.

"Blimey!" Ron breathed out heavily.

"You ok, mate?" Harry said, immediately concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just this bloody cane and my legs bloody hurt and bloody effing hell! I wish I didn't have to use this heavy bloody stick," Ron groaned, holding up his cane gently. "Mum gave it to me when I was still hospital bound. Wished she could have used a feather light charm or something," Ron moaned.

Harry hadn't taken much of a look at the walking implement before, but examining it now Harry surmised it must be something very old. It was a dark wood, a bit gnarled and twisted into a slow helix going downwards. The head was large and looked to have been ornately carved when it was new; before years of use reduced the finely carved runes to mere shadows of what they once were.

"What's the matter, Weasel, forgot to take your old man potions today?" The mocking voice of Draco Malfoy sailed through the corridor and Harry turned slowly around to see a cautiously advancing Draco and company. "Parents too poor to even afford a new stick? Too much to ask that they pick up something decent off the ground? I mean, really, their son attacked and they can't even get you something that won't make you fall down the stairs. Maybe they're hoping you'll break your neck this time, so they can stop feeding you and have a sickle to buy something decent," Malfoy continued, stopping a fair bit short of punching distance from Harry. 'It seems ferrets do learn new tricks', Harry thought. Unfortunately for Malfoy, so did Kneales.

Harry slowly took Ron's cane from his hand, leaving the other boy leaning against the cold castle wall. Then spinning quickly he brought the heavy head end into contact with the blond boy's face. 'WHACK' the sound of wood striking flesh resounded through the corridor. In another split second, Harry ducked and rolled, coming up behind Crabbe, and rendered that boy unconscious too with a swift stroke of the cane to the back of his head. Then, Harry's world turned a variety of different shades as the meaty hand of the last boy met squarely with the right side of Harry's face.

He couldn't see! The stars were beginning to abate, but fighting was useless at this point. Luckily Harry heard Ron. "Step back, oaf. Yes, that's right, a Weasley got the drop on you. Now get away from Harry before I hex you into oblivion." Harry could hear the shuffling of feet that he assumed meant Ron's threat was being taken seriously. Harry stood slowly and walked over to his backup. "Here you go, mate. We need to be off."

Ron merely grunted his agreement until they were partway up the stairs and out of clear vision from the Slytherins. "Well, this bloody thing is solid, I'll give it that," Ron chuckled.

"So's that lump's fist," Harry growled.

"Need to be quicker next time, mate. I'm supposed to be the fingerless hinkypunk here."

Harry nodded in slow agreement. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

oOo

"Harry, have you gotten a new broom yet?" The barking voice of Oliver Wood, cut through Harry's early morning day dreams.

"No, captain, I haven't. I don't know which I should get, there are so many decent ones," the younger Gryffindor replied irritably.

"Well you better get on that right away, Harry. We have some time before our next match but I don't want you just practicing on the school brooms. You need a decent one of your own before we play Ravenclaw."

Harry merely nodded silently and hoped his captain would take his leave. After a moment Wood huffed and headed off to his own breakfast.

"Where would you even get one at this point?" Ginny demanded.

"You can owl order almost anything," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess so, and with you lot heading off to Hogsmeade after breakfast I don't suppose we'll have much to do besides looking through Ron's copies of Which Broomstick," Ginny sighed.

Harry merely grinned. "No, not much to do at all…"

The entire table noticed the feral grin, and privately each had their own suspicion about what their housemate might do instead. None of their suspicions involved Harry simply reading 'Which Broomstick'.

Ginny's own mind peaked at her friend's smile, but her imagination couldn't begin to fathom what her best friend had in mind when he walked her out past Hagrid's hut.

"Paws, aren't we going to go to Hogsmeade?" Ginny said confused. It wasn't like Harry really paid much attention to rules.

"Oh, eventually, but we're going to kill two rats with one swipe on this one. I made a couple promises to some friends, and I actually need to keep them. All of a sudden, Ginny stopped when the Hippogriff pen became visible.

"Harry… what are we doing with Hippogriffs?"

"Family reunion," Harry replied succinctly.

"What?" Ginny was now thoroughly lost.

"Gordon's mother and some others are flying south for the winter, and they always travel near here about this time. We're going to take him over and let him get in a bit of a family reunion while we tour Hogsmeade."

"Harry, not to be stupid, but don't you think for a couple of students who aren't supposed to visit Hogsmeade we might be a bit… well… obvious?" Ginny cocked her eyebrow in a fair impression of her mother.

"Sure, that's why I had these made!" Harry smiled broadly and pulled out several black jumpsuits with attached hood. Harry was pleased to note that his fit rather nicely, in a loose and breezy kind of way, but Ginny's was baggy even by his standards. "Hmm… I guess that will have to do for now, but I think I may ask Arabella to take yours in a bit."

"Harry, I feel ridiculous, what am I wearing?"

"Ohhh! I read about them in one of Arabella's books last summer. Well, she read it to me and I was basking in a sunbeam, but that's beside the point. She kept reading about these little funny people that would dress up and sneak around and kill each other. Ninjoes… Ninjeees… something like that, and they all wore these black costumes because it makes them harder to see."

"Harry, won't black against a bright blue sky be fairly obvious?"

"It's grey today!" Harry replied indignantly. Ginny merely huffed. "But not to worry, Sparkplug, they'll get us in."

'Are you two finished? I don't want to miss Mum.' Gordon squawked.

"Oh, hold your Hippogriffs," Harry muttered, and with a quiet 'Reducto!' all three of the collars were broken on the ground.

"Harry, I thought you said only the one was meeting family."

"Sure, but Hippogriffs always travel in three or more. It gives them more protection. Now climb on!" Harry said, stopping just short of the feathery mount to bow slightly and then slung himself on.

"Harry? Am I allowed? I know you have some sort of animal magnetism, but I don't want to get bitten," Ginny stammered.

'Oh, would you just tell your lady to get up here?' Gordon puffed.

"Gin, it's fine. Now let's go!" With timid legs finally growing bolder, Ginny sidled up behind Harry on the more horse-ish portion of their mount and took to the sky.

"Kreeah!" all three winged creatures cried at the same time, and Ginny, despite her reluctance found herself enjoying the flying sensation nearly as much as a broom.

'There they are! MUM!' Gordon cried.

"Calm down, you arse," Harry scolded. They were flying high, but Harry knew that ninjoos or not they were going to attract a lot of attention when they had to get off. "Now, set us down right over… YEEEEAAA!" Both Harry and Ginny let out involuntary screams as the Hippogriffs merely tucked their wings and dropped like a stone. Three feet from the ground in the centre of town, Harry grabbed his human and tucked and rolled off the back of the Hippogriff, landing neatly in a dark alley.

"Nonjees all the way, Sparkplug. Now, we take these off and saunter around carefree," Harry smirked. Ginny merely nodded. Despite her frequent gut-wrenching acrobatics at home, she could safely say that nothing had prepared her for diving off the back of a Hippogriff dressed in black oversized pyjamas with a boy she may or may not have had a crush on depending on how many legs he had and whether or not he was jumping out of impossibly tall windows.

After stuffing the black pyjamas back in his sack, Harry and Ginny proceeded to explore the village, and watch the terrified expressions of many passers-by as they stared apprehensively at the sky. Zonko's was so-so, Ginny thought. Fred and George had better stuff back when they weren't taking school so seriously, but Honeydukes was fantastic. The Three Broomsticks though, that was the best. Not just because of the butterbeer, but mostly because Harry was able to sneak up and scare Hermione and Ron out of an awkward conversation.

"Harry! Where did you come from?" Hermione hissed. "You know you aren't supposed to be here."

"Have a butterbeer?" Ron asked casually.

"Don't mind if I do," Harry replied. "Have one for Ginny too?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. You're buying the next ones though. I don't have any pocket money left," Ron groused. Harry merely smiled and shoved a Galleon over the table top.

"That do for you?"

Ron's eyes bugged at the sight of the gold coin. "Blimey, Harry, you don't have to give that much."

"Ehh… only gold," Harry shrugged and then continued to drink his butterbeer and describe the unusual manner in which they arrived.

"Won't they just fly away then?" Hermione asked.

"No, they like the ferrets Hagrid brings them too much. They told me they wouldn't anyway."

"Harry, duck!" Ron suddenly hissed, having noticed several professors enter the pub.

For the next half hour the four students stayed hidden behind a carefully levitated Christmas tree while they listened to the official story behind Sirius Black's supposed treachery. Harry had to stop himself from laughing. If there was one thing he knew it was that Sirius Black was certainly not working with anyone else. At this moment, in fact, he supposed the man was likely working on replacing a cracked oil pan on Angelina. She certainly deserved it for her part in the heroics at his Quidditch match.

Finally the professors moved out, and the four were able to sneak back to the cold outside air.

"Harry, are you sure this Black bloke is really on our side?" Ron asked softly.

"Yeah, Ron, I am. I don't think he'd have waited this long to kill me and he certainly wouldn't fix up my car first."

"If you're sure mate. Wait, if you said the other was Pettigrew… then all we have to do is catch the little bugger and we can clear your Godfather," Ron began excitedly.

"Harry, we have to be getting back. We need to let your flighty friends know that we'll be fine walking and they don't have to worry about us," Ginny murmured.

"How are you getting back, without costing us another hundred points, I mean," Hermione huffed.

Harry merely winked, "Don't worry so much Hermione, we're ninjoes!"

"Nin-whats?" Both Ron and Hermione chorused.

"Ninjoes, funny looking folks with swords and black pyjamas. Sneak around all times of the night. You know, ninjoes,"

"Harry, are you talking about ninja? As in from Japan, the secret art of killing?"

"Would someone please explain to me what the bloody hell is going on?" Ron finally burst out.

Harry was about to reply, when his least favourite boy in the world made his customary and untimely appearance.

"Potter! What are you doing here? I thought Dumbledore grounded you so you wouldn't get chopped up into little Potty bits," Malfoy taunted. "Or are you out here trying to help the weasels find their lost Knut. Be enough to feed their family for a week, I'll bet." Both Crabbe and Goyle seemed to find this uproariously funny. Ginny, however, did not and let out an ear-splitting whistle any taxi in London would have stopped for. Ginny merely smiled for a moment and crossed her arms.

"A neat talent there, blood-traitor, but it won't save you when I tell your precious McGonagall that you two are out here illegally."

"Oh, I think it might," Ginny retorted. A moment later there was panic in the streets as three Hippogriffs landed in between the warring groups of students.

'Sir Harry, your lady called?'

"Indeed she did, Sir Gordon, now if you would be so kind as to bear us back to Gryffindor tower, our time here is at an end."

'Our pleasure, young knight.'

Ginny approached gently and whispered something into Harry's ear. "Err… Sir Gordon, would it be perhaps too much effort for you to bear my friends here back, as well? Those scurvy knaves on the far side there would do them harm, I fear, should we leave. I make it a point never to abandon one's Pride."

'I suppose, if their bow is courteous enough,' Gawain muttered from the back.

"Good enough. Alright, Hermione, bow and hop on!"

"Wha.. wha.. what? You can't seriously expect me to…"

"You will if you don't want to get hexed as soon as we leave," Harry replied. "And make it fast the shock factor is wearing off. We need to get airborn and now!"

Nodding mutely at the shock of it all, Hermione bowed low and scrambled on before the first Hippogriff had even finished his own bow.

"You too, Ron!" Ron was far more enthusiastic as Ginny yelled at him, "You don't have to steer! Just hang on."

With that the seven were airborne and not a moment too soon as Malfoy and company finally snapped out of their shock and began hollering. Crabbe even made to draw his wand, but a large number of mucus-coloured bats erupted from his nose. Harry looked surprised when he noticed Ginny didn't have her wand out. "It wasn't me," was all she said.

Too soon it seemed they were standing in the Gryffindor common room, having finished saying goodbye to their mounts. "That was awesome, mate! Can't believe you snagged Hagrid's Hippogriffs!" Ron gloated. Harry merely rolled his eyes. As if they belonged to Hagrid!

"Ohh… did you see his face? Malfoy looked like he was about to wet himself!" Ron continued. "And Crabbe and Goyle…" Ron stopped in mid sentence and the colour seemed to drain from his face. Harry whirled around when he heard the clipped tone of his Head of House. "By all means, Mr. Weasley, please do tell me what Misters Crabbe and Goyle looked like? They were in fact telling the most ridiculous stories about the four of you riding away on Hippogriffs…" She let the words sink in. Ron and Ginny chuckled nervously.

"Mr. Potter, you will come with me. Miss Weasley, you will stay here until Dumbledore wishes to speak with you, is that clear?"

"No, Professor. Paws and I are a team. Where he goes, I go. I don't care if it's facing Dementors, riding Hippogriffs, or hunting that shite-stain Lestrange."

McGonagall looked equal parts furious and impressed with the small red-head's outburst and with a small nod of her head led them both towards the Headmaster's office.

_Alright fans! Thanks so much for putting up with my infrequent updates, but this time I am pleased to say that… 34 is nearly written! Hope you all like the ninjees and everything else going on. The Hippogriffs haven't landed in too much trouble… yet. Let me know what you think and thanks to all for making this such a popular story. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I do writing it. Also, another shout out to Silverbirch here on who's wonderful story One of Nine has given me glorious inspiration. Thanks again, mate!_


	34. Holidays

Ch 34.

Harry fell into step beside Ginny, behind their fuming professor. Ginny's face was set in a stony mask of attempted indifference, barely containing the fear she felt at likely facing an irate Professor Dumbledore. Harry was trying to give encouraging smiles, but they didn't seem to be getting through.

Luckily, they weren't alone. Halfway there, the recently absent Crookshanks darted out from behind a suit of armour and walked quickly next to the two deviants, making it a trio of reprobates.

'Heard what you did, Paws. Nice moves if a little short on the thinking.'

"Shouldn't you be cleaning Norris' whiskers?" Harry shot back in a whisper.

Crookshanks gave him a very guilty look. 'Well, she er… I told her I had to come do this. I thought you could use me.'

"Fine, but Ginny needs us both to be strong, so don't go soiling your fur the first time things start to get a little heated."

'You hold up your end and I'll hold up mine. We'll get your molly through this,' Crookshanks assured his friend.

"Harry, are you talking to Crookshanks?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah, he's coming with us." Ginny didn't know why, but the presence of the orange ball of fluff walking beside her made all the difference in the world. All too soon, they were standing in front of their Headmaster, who was gazing at them with an unreadable expression. Crookshanks gave a low trill of comfort, and Harry's jaw twitched slightly, fighting desperately to avoid a smile. He needed to remain calm and impassive. Dealing with the Headmaster was never easy.

"Thank you, Professor," Dumbledore nodded at McGonagall. With a brief nod in return, she spun on her heel and marched quickly down the stairs.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley, I would like you to explain to me why you thought it was worth the risk today to visit Hogsmeade, without permission," Dumbledore continued, his voice stern.

Harry shrugged and put an arm around Ginny and let a small feral smile cross his face. He really was getting tired of having to explain all his actions to people. "I was helping out a friend and giving Ginny a well needed distraction. Anyway, everyone else got to go, so I figured why not me?"

"I would say because neither you nor Miss Weasley had permission, but I seriously doubt that would have any meaning at this point," Dumbledore sighed, his age beginning to show ever so slightly.

"Right in one Professor! I would ask why you think it's so wrong for me to go, but I suppose you'd say something about school rules or some other rubbish," Harry scoffed.

"I might indeed."

"Well, as long as we're clear with each other then, may we go?"

"No." Dumbledore's voice suddenly became ice cold. "Mr. Potter, I said I _might_ have said that. Were this a normal year and you merely another one of my charges. However, neither is the case. This year, you are being hunted by two very dangerous criminals, and some of the closest supporters of Voldemort himself."

Harry made a coughing noise that sounded suspiciously like 'wanker'.

"Mr… Harry, there is no joke here. I understand that you have done more than most wizards twice your age, but please for your sake and the sake of your friends, especially Miss Weasley, keep a damper on your free flighted activities."

Harry narrowed his eyes, and finally jerked his head in a poor imitation of a nod.

"You would do well to consider your friends, before your wants, Harry," Dumbledore sighed, hoping that at least a small piece of his advice would not go unheeded. The resounding shout surprised everyone.

"I WAS! I can't believe you would tell me that! I had promised Gordon that I could help him visit his mother; she was flying south for the winter and she is a bit old. But no! The great Headmaster would hardly deign himself to care about a poor Hippogriff's family problems, or the fact that the Acromantula are nearing breeding season again, or even that the Unicorns are suffering from a particularly nasty confrontation with Venomous Tentacula. No! Instead you choose to tell me to think about my friends. Well Mr. Dumbledore, I am and I don't make distinctions on how many legs they have or if they have fur, fins or feathers. Ginny and I weren't in any danger, not with a bloody big crowd of wizards all about. Certainly in less danger than when the bravest tom I've known on two legs got himself Cruciate'd. I think I'm more in danger here sometimes than out there. If you want to stop the whole thing, find that Pettigrew bloke and eat him."

"Peter Pettigrew is dead, Harry," Dumbledore said softly.

Harry merely scoffed. "Not as dead as you'd think. You know that little bastard was hiding for years as a rat? Not that you'd take my word for it, but when I kill him I will bring him in for you. In your shoes, say?" Harry gave a wicked grin and grabbed Ginny's arm dragging her down the stony steps and out of the Headmaster's office, his adrenaline still running high.

"Harry… we're going to get expelled," Ginny said softly.

"Nah, not you, Sparkplug. Me, maybe, but I've been waiting for it since I killed that Quirrell bloke. They still haven't… oh shite…" Harry's eyes went wide as he realized once again that he had a terrible case of paw-in-mouth syndrome.

"Harry, I don't understand. What do you mean, you killed Quirrell? We've never had a teacher like that here and the name isn't from around the Burrow. It sounds so familiar though," Ginny said quietly. Her eyes darted away telling Harry instantly she was thinking.

"He was the defence teacher my first year," Harry murmured.

Ginny's eyes grew wide. "You… you killed someone?"

"Ginny, I've killed lots of things. I've hunted for most of my life. Let's not make a big deal about this, okay?" Harry shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"No, I mean a person. A real person… you killed one?"

Harry nodded quickly.

"Why?" Ginny had begun to back away slowly, as though Harry might explode any minute

"He killed one of my Unicorns, and Dumbledore tells me he might have been possessed by Voldemort."

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding. It seemed she was at least willing to listen.

"He was possessed and killed a Unicorn," Ginny repeated. Harry nodded again. "Harry, I don't know whether to smack you or run screaming down the corridor!" Ginny's began to yell.

"Isn't there a gentler third option?" Harry ventured.

"This is all some sort of joke to you?" Ginny vented. "Harry, you just told me you killed a man. I don't know whether to believe you and accept what that entails, or think you've finally gone round the twist."

"No, Sparkplug…"

"Don't call me that!" Ginny snapped. Harry was taken momentarily aback and his eyes grew to the size of saucers.

"No, _Ginny,_" Harry began, placing particular emphasis on her name, "I am not crazy. I did kill that man, professor or no, because he killed a Unicorn to drink its blood. I was told later that the man was indeed possessed by Voldemort in an attempt to regain a body. I need you to understand, Gin. I swore to protect them. He killed Ferd! How was I supposed to let that pass? These human wouldn't do anything for a 'mere' Unicorn! They are my friends, Ginny. I'd do the same for you." Harry's eyes were pleading, Ginny could see that, but the idea that he had… killed, was upsetting her idea of how the world worked. Bad men went to prison, good guys got the girl and they definitely didn't… kill.

"I don't know Harry. How can I trust you?"

"The same way you've always trusted me, Gin. I've been there for you nearly your whole life, why would this change anything? If it helps, add it to your list of 'things Harry can do well'."

"I don't keep a list like that," Ginny grumped.

"Perhaps you should. I can't help thinking it would be quite an extensive thing, though. Perhaps you can write it in shorthand." Both Harry and Ginny jumped at the sudden voice of Luna Lovegood and her near ghostly appearance next to them. "I for one think that Harry's timely dispatch of a possessed professor is quite a unique talent, even if he doesn't employ it that often."

Ginny merely gawked at her friend's easy acceptance of Harry's apparent murder of Hogwarts' faculty.

"Luna, how can you say that? It's awful!" Ginny reproached.

"Hardly. If the Quirrell man really was possessed by the evil spirit of You-Know-Who, then why wouldn't Harry dispatch of him. It isn't like he's wandering around murdering professors and students in their beds willy-nilly. He hasn't even killed that delightfully ignorant Slytherin boy, the one with the dragon name."

"Draco," Harry supplied.

"Yes, that's the one. Also, it is quite obvious that Harry despises Professor Lupin, but he certainly hasn't dispatched our quite qualified Defence teacher yet. Would you say then, Harry, that being possessed by Voldemort would be the qualifying requirement for killing a teacher, or would you lean more towards causing the deaths of Unicorns?"

Harry was unnerved at the easy and quiet way in which the small blond girl was talking. He felt rather like a kitten being unknowingly eyeballed by an eagle, waiting to pounce. "Err… The Unicorns I think," he stammered.

"There you have it, Ginny. None of our current Professors have been out hunting the Unicorns and I don't think our friend here has any intention of wonton killing." Luna stopped for a moment and then gave her most dazzling smile, directly into Harry's eyes. "Though it might be useful for scoring all O's," she finished.

"Um… was there something you needed, Luna?" Ginny finally asked.

"Oh, yes. I was wondering if Harry here could keep an eye out for a Crumple Horned Snorkack. Only when you go into the Forbidden Forest, mind you. Daddy says they don't live around here, but I'm positive I saw one's hoof print outside the Ravenclaw tower, and as I haven't seen them frolicking about the grounds, they must live in the forest."

"Who says I go into the forest?" Harry asked a little too quickly.

"Oh, no one, but if you've made friends with the Unicorns, then you'd have to go in a fair bit, wouldn't you? It isn't like they come out and play with the Giant Squid."

"Is that all?"

"I should think so. I must be off, then. I need to cast anti-tickle charms around the suits of armour on the third floor, as they are terribly ticklish." With that the blond Ravenclaw sauntered off into a world not even Harry could fathom.

"You have the strangest friends, Sparkplug," he murmured.

"Yeah," Ginny agreed, "But she makes a strange kind of sense."

oOo

The next day term ended, and much to the entire Weasley clan's chagrin, they were all being forced home for Christmas. Ron suspected it had entirely to do with the attack, and no one was about to disagree with him. So, as a matter of course, Harry decided to return to Arabella's as well. However, standing at the train station he realized he may have neglected to inform his caretaker of that fact.

Scanning the car park, Harry could spot no sign of his caretaker's Volvo, a sign which disturbed him as Mum Weasley had already ushered her children very quickly out of the cold and off to home, as though hordes of dark wizards would materialize out of the pavement.

"Looking for someone?" Harry jumped at the old voice of Sebastian Prewett. The Kneazle-boy did an abrupt about face and glared at the older man.

"You shouldn't sneak up on a bloke like that," Harry growled.

"Kneazles shouldn't be so easy to sneak up on," Sebastian rebuked. "Now, let's get you home, shall we? I have a feeling we need some practice with that pig-sticker you've hidden in your trousers."

Harry merely smiled back as his 'uncle' grabbed his arm and quickly Disapparated them from the middle of the station.

"Harry!" Arabella cried. "I didn't think you'd be home for Christmas this year."

Sebastian merely chuckled. "Bells, it's as I told you, once Molly said she was bringing his little girlfriend home I knew this randy bugger wouldn't be far behind."

"Sebastian, language! I don't need to give Molly's accusations that you're a bad influence any more truth than they already have."

Both Sebastian and Harry rolled their eyes. "But Harry dear, you didn't bring your trunk."

"I know, but I'm not likely to need it much. I brought my fur coat and I don't plan on staying here very much, if you don't mind terribly. I do apologise, but with everything that has happened, I think The Burrow might need another paw doing guard duty."

Arabella frowned deeply, but her brother let out a booming laugh. "Randy as I was at his age! Harry if you want to chase your molly please don't feel restricted on our account, just don't be giving Molly and Arthur grand-kittens any time soon."

Harry sputtered with indignation. It wasn't that the thought hadn't crossed his mind, but it was certainly chased off as quickly as it had entered. She was his human after all!

Sebastian's laugh continued at his 'nephew's' obvious discomfort, until he couldn't take it anymore and the old man invited his protégé out to the back yard for 'a bit of sport'.

Arabella watched them with quiet contentment as Harry and her brother came far too close to serious bodily injury for any woman's liking. However, she reflected, it wasn't as if they couldn't be healed and for once it seemed as though she finally had a bit of the family she'd always dreamed of.

Hours later Sebastian came in from the cold, shivering with excitement and dripping with sweat. His physical exertions obviously outweighed the arctic temperatures.

"Don't wear yourself out, Brother. I don't want to have to take you to the hospital if our ward wears you out," Arabella chided.

Sebastian waved his hand dismissively. "Bells, I used to train bloody Aurors. I was the best, and you know it. I can still out hex and out think any one of those wet-behind-the-ears bunch they send to catch dark wizards today. Not that there are any dark wizards mucking about, but it won't surprise me if Moldy-gob comes back and sweeps the whole bunch under the rug."

"Brother!" Arabella interrupted fiercely. "I know, and I've heard it all before. What they did wasn't right, but at the time you were lucky to escape Azkaban. I'm not saying you're an invalid, but we're both getting on in years and I don't want you dropping dead in my back yard. The Kneazles might eat you and then I'd have to put up with their yowling from indigestion. Now, where did our youngster go anyway?"

"He's off to visit our niece again. I don't think the boy himself realises how much he loves that girl. I just hope he doesn't bollix it all up before he has a chance to figure it out and tell her," Sebastian muttered, taking a long draw on a cup of freshly prepared tea. Arabella merely smiled.

"He's a boy, so he's bound to make a regular mash of it sooner or later, just a matter of whether she'll forgive him when he does."

A very sudden roar could be heard in the distance and Sebastian smiled deeply. "Oh, I think she might."

oOo

Harry stood stock still, staring with unabashed wonder at the first present he'd unwrapped from the pile he'd awoken to find this Christmas. It was a long thin thing, and Harry had been secretly hoping for a scratching post, but it was a bit scrawny for that. No, instead it was a brand new Firebolt tactical pursuit broom. Faster than the Nimbus 2001 and more agile that the Comet 850s. This was the broom that would set International Quidditch standards for years, or so Harry had heard.

Unfortunately, neither Sebastian nor Arabella seemed nearly so chuffed about the whole situation as Harry did. Especially when they explained that neither of them had bought it for him and it was unlikely that Ginny had robbed Gringotts to acquire enough gold to do so.

"What does the note say, Harry?"

"To the only Seeker with true cat-like reflexes."

"Harry, who else knows?"

"About what?"

"Your furry heritage," Sebastian replied.

"Well… you, Arabella, Ginny, a couple professors and an escaped convict."

"Harry… who did you tell?" Sebastian's tone turned deadly serious.

"Mr. Black," came Harry's innocent reply. He realized only too late that his elderly caretakers had not been present to the same discussions his friends had.

"Mr. Black… would that happen to be Sirius Black?" Arabella asked faintly.

"That would be him," Harry mumbled.

"Are you and idiot, boy, or do you just have a death wish?" Sebastian's voice was deathly calm now.

"Neither, Uncle, Mr. Black has been vouched for. He even helped Angelina."

"Vouched for… by whom?"

"A council of twelve. Anyway, if he wanted to kill me he's had plenty of chances, and as I said he helped fix Angelina, so he can't be all bad."

"Who, may I ask, is Angelina?" Arabella finally seemed to regain her voice.

"Dad Weasley's car that Ginny and I crashed last year. She's been living in the wild, but her oil pan was cracked. So I ordered a new one and Mr. Black put it in."

"Harry, the man is a convicted Death Eater who betrayed your parents to their deaths. What part of what I told you this summer failed to stick?" Sebastian's rage began to bubble to the surface. Harry for his part seemed unperturbed.

"None of it, Sebastian, but I've discovered new things since."

"What could possibly change your mind?" Sebastian was in disbelief.

"Twelve of my companion Kneazles told me he was telling the truth when he said he was innocent and since then we've both agreed to hunt down the Pettigrew rat and his strange friend."

"You mean Lestrange?" Sebastian pressed.

"That's what I said, his strange friend," Harry confirmed.

"And you think a dead man has something to do with this?" Sebastian continued incredulously.

Harry sighed in the dramatic manner of oppressed teenagers. "No, Sebastian, I KNOW he has something to do with this. He's been living with the Weasleys longer than I have, I think. Their rat, Scabbers, was an Animagus. I'm sure it's Pettigrew. He knows about me and I about him so the only real option for all of this is that we kill him and I live happily ever after. Mr. Black said he'd help."

"Wait, you're telling me that the old rat Arthur bought little Bill for a Hogwarts pet because it was all they could afford was actually an Animagus of a man who framed his good friend for the murder of twelve Muggles?"

"And the murder of my human parents," Harry chimed in.

"And how, precisely, did you deduce all of this?" Arabella asked faintly.

"I told you, Mr. Black told me, and before you ask, yes, I do believe him because twelve of my Hogwarts' Kneazles believe him too, and that's good enough for me."

Sebastian frowned deeply. He hadn't lived with his sister for as long as he had without picking up a few things about the magical cats she tended, and one of those inscrutable facts was that Kneazles were an excellent judge of character. If twelve of them had readily accepted an escaped mass murderer and Harry believed his story… Well, Sebastian reflected, he'd nearly been chucked in that hell hole, too. It wasn't as though the magical government of Britain was infallible.

"Harry, be careful." It was all either could think to say to their ward and, Harry felt, all that needed to be said.

"One more thing, though," Sebastian suddenly went on. "I'll need the broom. Only for a bit, mind you, but I want to check it thoroughly for jinxes and the like. You'll have it back after a few blokes I know give it a complete shake down."

Harry nodded dumbly. It wasn't as though he could argue with the old man, and to be fair it wasn't like he'd planned on doing much flying before he went back to school, anyway.

"Well, we've plenty of other presents to open. Go on, Harry, I know you'll like the triangular one there." Arabella smiled, trying to break the awkward tension and so Harry reached forward and ripped off the wrapping paper. It turned out she was right, he liked it very much indeed.

oOo

"So, get anything good for Christmas, mate?" Ron queried. He seemed a little put out that Harry hadn't come to visit. Thus standing on platform nine and three-quarters was the first time he'd seen his mate all holiday, despite him living nearly next door. The truth was that Harry had been over every day, but Ron was still a bit wary of the black cat with white markings.

"Yeah, got a few new clothes, a whole box of cat treats and a new Firebolt," Harry replied off-handedly. Ron's jaw dropped causing Ginny to let loose an involuntary giggle.

"You got a Firebolt! Blimey, Harry, do you realize what kind of a broom that is? We'll win the cup for sure. Can I ride… I mean see it?"

Harry smirked. "I'd love to show you, Ron, but I don't have it at the moment.

Ron's jaw dropped. "What do you mean?"

"I believe he means, dear brother, that he is no longer in possession of such a wonderful broom, it having been confiscated by our esteemed Uncle."

"Sebastian took your broom?" Ron looked a little confused. Harry nodded. "Why the bloody hell would he do that?" Ron ranted.

"Ronald! Watch your language," Molly scolded from nearby. Both Weasley parents and several of Arthur's friends from work had come to see the children all back to school safely. It was obvious that Molly, at least, thought that dark wizards had an excellent chance of materializing out of the nearest rubbish bin.

Fortunately for the lot of them, the trip back was uneventful. So much so, that it seemed Malfoy had even forgotten his routine of unannounced an visit to deliver cutting remarks and ineffective sneering. As the knot of Gryffindors trudged towards their tower, the castle seemed colder than Harry remembered when he left. One thing had not changed. The wolfish professor was still present and walking briskly to intercept the little group. Although, if he really thought about it, it seemed to Harry that perhaps the man wasn't quite as ferocious and evil as he had perhaps thought. Perhaps Isis had a chat with the man in his dreams. It was something she was known for after all.

"Mr. Potter." Harry turned to face the professor as he'd finally caught up. "I assume that your absence from the castle meant that you went home for the holidays?"

Harry nodded once.

"Then I would remind you that due to your extended period of magical inactivity I would advise you to continue your extra-credit learning assignment as soon as possible. Will this Wednesday work?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry mumbled. He even managed to keep any fear or loathing out of his voice.

"Very good. I will expect you then. Carry on, everyone."

The rest of his friends looked at him strangely. "What's he talking about, Harry?" Neville finally asked.

"Patronus lessons. I'm learning how to repel Dementors."

"Wicked!" Ron exclaimed. Ginny said nothing, and merely smiled.

"But, Harry, isn't that NEWT level magic?" Hermione asked.

"Yup, but don't worry, I've done it once so I should be able to do it again," Harry replied confidently.

"You've already done a Patronus?" Hermione was shocked. Harry simply nodded as the group climbed through the Gryffindor portrait hole.

"Eeek!" The shriek of Lavender Brown brought everyone's attention. It seemed Crookshanks had caught a mouse and deposited it neatly onto Lavender's shoe. The girl's scream made Harry's ears ring.

"Hermione, your cat is disgusting! Where did he get that anyway?"

"Likely caught it. This is a castle, Lavender. Although, I am surprised Filch doesn't put out mouse traps," Hermione commented.

"What's a mouse trap?" Ron asked. Neville and Ginny nodded at the question.

"Erm… it's this Muggle thing that they use for catching mice. There's a spring on a board with a trigger and you put a piece of cheese on it. When the mouse nibbles on the cheese the trap springs."

"Does it kill the mouse?" Harry's voice was unusually intense.

"Usually," Hermione replied.

"Sirius' black heart! Why didn't I think of that before," Harry exclaimed. "I'll be back, everyone. No need to wait up!" With that Harry was out once again into the corridor. A whole host of strange looks followed him.

Harry's mind was racing at Cheetah speed. Why hadn't he considered it before? The answer to this whole year's problem was so simple! Unfortunately, while his mind was racing, his body was still constricted by mere Kneazle limitations and so it took him nearly an hour to find his quarry.

'Sirius!' Harry mewed loudly, finally spotting the black grim.

'Harry! You like present?'

'Yes, yes. It was very nice, but Uncle Sebastian confiscated it to check for jinxes, but that isn't what I came here to talk to you about.'

'Sebastian took broom for jinx?'

'Yes, now if you would please listen to me!'

'What you want?'

'I've figured out how to get the rat and his strange friend,' Harry positively grinned.

'How we do that? Been hunting while you gone. No luck.'

'Firstly, my dear man, I doubt you could hunt your way out from underneath an afghan, but really why would they be wandering about here? There are no students and lots of Dementors. So… logically, like any rat, he won't reveal himself until there is something he wants.'

'You no make sense,' Sirius growled.

'We set a trap, Mr. Black, with bait to ensure both of them come out to where we can find them.'

'Good idea, but what we use for bait?'

Harry grinned ferociously. 'Me…'

_AN: Thanks again for the reviews and your readership. I hope this rapid (for me) update will offset the likely event of a long while before 35. I'm sorry about the cliffie (mostly), but this was just the best place to end it. I'm hoping to work on 35 soon, but I've had a bit of writers block. To help cure that I'm working on the beginnings of a story for the Ranger's Apprentice universe. A wonderful bout of books, if this story ever sees daylight is not yet decided. Never fear gentle readers, UPDATE MAN will return. He just has to shake the bad bout of kryptonite poisoning he suffered recently at the hands of WRITER'S BLOCK! I'll try to be back sooner than you can say Quodpot. _


	35. Plans and Wolves

Ch 35

Sirius Black was considered many things, but responsible was never one of them. So it was with mixed feelings that he made the rapid transformation to human. He knew the boy could understand him and since he couldn't understand in return, it ensured that the only son of his best friend would have to listen.

"Harry, you're not going to do that. If you really want to help, you'll help me find them and we can get them unawares."

"Merow!" Harry violently disagreed. Realizing that Sirius couldn't very well understand him as he continued to prattle on about 'life debts' and 'your father's only son', Harry changed very suddenly and kicked the older man square in the shin.

"Dammit, Harry! What on earth did you do that for?" Sirius yelped, as he hobbled about on his remaining good leg.

"Because you wouldn't be quiet, Mr. Black. We must be the hunter, and it appears you lack the mind for it. I said we'd lay a trap and that is exactly what I plan on doing. If you'd like to help, then I suggest you make yourself useful and if not, then sod off. The Pride here is more than capable of devising a plan and executing it. This might mean loss of life on our part, however, which is something I'd hoped to avoid. We understand the value of sacrifice. I am willing to risk that to eliminate a threat to the forest. Now, Mr. Black, are you in or out?"

Harry's green eyes bored into Sirius' very soul, it seemed. He could feel his worth as a man being brought into question at the young boy's words. At the same time Sirius felt he finally understood the fundamental truth behind his godson. This boy had seen death, but he'd known that before. Many men had seen death, though. In the grand scheme things like that didn't really alter a man as much as he'd first thought. No, this boy understood true sacrifice. For his friends, big and small, Sirius knew that Harry would give up everything to make sure they were alright. It was a lesson many adult wizards never learned, one he learned in Azkaban, when he finally realized he put revenge before James' wish that Sirius raise their boy if the worst should happen. It seemed beyond belief that the boy had turned out so well, and Sirius knew that if he wanted to continue being a part of this remarkable young man's life there was only one answer he could give.

"Fine, pup, since you're so insistent we'll do it your way."

Harry ignored the obvious jibe and settled for the fact that the dog finally saw reason. "Good, I'm glad. Now here is what we have in mind."

"We?" Sirius interrupted.

"Yes, we, as in myself and the one you call Crookshanks developed this plan. Now, may I continue? Good. Here is the plan we developed. First, we stage an elaborate fireworks show, near Hagrid's cabin, which would distract people from the castle, but also draw the attention of the rat and his man. Then when they come to investigate, they'll see me near the pumpkin patch. At which point you Stun them and then the Hippogriffs drop a big rock on the both of them. Problem solved." Harry's smile was glinting ear to ear. He'd thought this plan out quite thoroughly and both he and Crookshanks agreed that it was a good one. Rather like hunting mice if you put your mind to it.

Sirius' mouth hung open with shock. He was hoping the boy was joking, but he had the distinct feeling this really would be the plan if a wiser adult didn't intervene. There didn't seem to be one around, so Sirius decided he'd have to do.

"Harry, that is… a good plan, but I might have one that could work just as well and would get you a little more hunting experience." Harry smiled and Sirius chuckled inwardly. The boy really was a cat at heart, wasn't he? "Rather than drawing them here, where other people might intervene, why don't we try and lure them out somewhere beyond the castle. Say, Hogsmeade?"

"I suppose so. They are likely still hanging around there, I would guess."

"I'd bet my life that they haven't gone too far. Lestrange is a single-minded bastard, and Peter knows that there is too much at stake for him to simply disappear. So firstly, we need to know what assets we're working with. Your Kneazle friends are okay helping?"

Harry nodded. "I'm sure of it. Don't dismiss them easily. They may not be as large as some dogs, but there are lots of us and we all know how to kill."

"Believe me, Harry, I'm not dismissing anything. I'll take all the help I can get. From the looks of it your cats there weigh sometimes near forty pounds. A couple of Toms would weigh nearly as much as Peter. If they don't mind doing the dirty work, I'd say they might even beat me to offing Lestrange. Peter is mine, though, Harry. I want him for everything he did," Sirius growled. Harry merely shrugged. He wanted the rat dead too, but it made no difference to him who did it.

"Now," Sirius continued, "All through the day, your little friends make their way through the village and start spreading out. If they can find either of them, they let us know, right away. If they can't they sit tight until night fall. Either way you head through and begin making a ruckus. It's important that you be Harry though, not a black Kneazle. I don't want to give away the fact that you can change and we'll need you to be spotted to draw them out of hiding."

"What if they don't take the bait then?"

"If I know Peter, he'll take it, but if he doesn't then I'm relying on your furry friends to sniff him out."

Harry nodded once. "They can do that alright. What happens once we kill him?" Harry finally asked. He'd not thought about it much before, but then again he wasn't an escaped convict. Harry had a castle and family to return to. Sirius was not so lucky.

"Well, Harry, I've given this a fair bit of thought. I wish that you could come live with me, but somehow even if that were possible, I don't think that you'd be so inclined."

Harry nodded again and even he couldn't miss the poorly concealed anguish behind the older man's eyes. "It isn't that I don't trust you Mr. Black. We are after all going on a grand adventure that if all goes well will end in mayhem and death. In fact, for a dog you're a fair bit of alright, but I have a family. Mother and Father would miss me and somehow I think that you'd be a bit cramped beneath the corn crib."

Sirius nodded his acceptance. He'd figured as much, but it still pained his heart to know that he wouldn't get to repay his debt to James. "Now, the Whomping Willow, do you know how to turn it off?" Sirius asked, and at Harry's puzzled expression explained the peculiarities of the tree.

"Hmmm… I always wondered what good a passage to Hogsmeade was to Humans if there was a bloody great tree sitting over top of it," Harry mused.

"How do you know it goes to Hogsmeade?" Sirius said, surprised.

"A little piece of parchment told me," Harry grinned back.

"You have the map… Oh, James would be over the moon to know!"

Harry suddenly glared at the older man. "How do you know about that?"

Sirius chuckled. "Harry, we wrote it! Your dad and me and a two other of our school chums. We were the Marauders. Famous in song and dance! At least when we could charm the suits of armour. Your dad had the Cloak and we made the Map. With those, we were unstoppable. It was part of how we got onto the grounds to play as Animagi."

"James-dad was an Animagus?" Harry blurted out. He'd not thought about it. He could imagine James-dad running the grounds as a fully grown snow leopard (Harry didn't know why a snow leopard, it just seemed right) or even as a stealthy and powerful jaguar. A smile slowly crept onto the boy's features as he thought that perhaps his human parents were not so dissimilar after all. Then Sirius ruined it.

"Yes, your father was the finest stag I've ever seen! He could run forever and he always had one up on me with those blasted antlers."

Harry felt his fantasy world implode around his ears. "A stag… as in a bloody big deer?"

"Well, yes." Sirius was now confused again. James cut quite the noble and dashing figure, and Sirius had always been a little envious. Of course, Sirius was always a little envious of James. "He was a grand and noble-" but Sirius never finished his thought as he was abruptly cut off.

"He was prey, Mr. Black. The Pride would hunt such a thing and eat it. I can't believe I'm related to prey! Ohh… Mum would have humans if she knew," Harry moaned as he shook his head in frustration.

"Have humans?" Sirius asked.

"Well, humans have kittens when they're upset, I think it is only fair if Kneazles have humans when we're the same."

"I think we're getting a little off topic, Harry. Let's figure out how to kill Pettigrew and Lestrange, without getting pinched."

Harry nodded in vigorous agreement. "So," Sirius continued. "Your furry friends infiltrate the village before nightfall and see if they can sniff out the rat. I'll be next, so give me a few minutes to hide, then you come through as a human and make all kinds of racket. Here's where your fireworks come in."

"Won't I be spotted by the villagers?" Harry asked. It seemed a bit redundant to do all this sneaking around, only to be spotted by Madam Rosmerta and have Dumbledore called a moment later.

"That's the point, Harry. They'll see you, and they'll know others have seen you. So, when you head towards the Shrieking Shack, out of immediate sight from the village, they'll also know that it is their best chance to catch you and they won't have time to plan, because they know Dumbledore is on his way. So, they get sloppy and that, Prongslet, is what allows us to pounce." Sirius grinned victoriously. A grin that was wiped away when he saw the cold look his godson was giving him.

"What did you call me, dog?" Harry growled.

"Prongslet… you know, your Dad was Prongs, because of his…"

"Antlers, I would presume," Harry snarled. He rose quickly and walked deliberately towards the older man. "Let us get this straight. I… Am… Not… Prey!" Harry punctuated each word with a vicious poke to the chest. "And if you ever call me that again, I will demonstrate that fact. I will have your guts for garters, dog face." Harry did his best grim smile. He also made a mental note to find out exactly what a garter was and why guts were a suitable replacement. The man on the telly hadn't given too much explanation, but it seemed like a tough and forceful thing to say. Based on the lack of blood in Mr. Black's face, the Kneazle-boy had to guess that it meant something bad. He made another mental note to continue watching this summer, whenever he was down in the village, as Sebastian and Arabella didn't own one.

Mum had always said it was a waste of time to spy on the boys in the village like that, but he'd always found it amusing, and now it seemed that his observations from windowsills had finally paid off.

"Er… sure, Harry. Sorry about that."

"Very good, Mr. Black. Now, when do you think we should do this?"

"At night," Sirius responded.

"Obviously, but I was looking more for a date."

"Then you should ask that pretty lioness that's always hanging about. Ohhh, Harry… Your dad would be over the moon if he knew you had your sights set on a seventh year like that."

"Who's a seventh year?" Harry puzzled.

"The lioness. I mean she'd almost have to be, it's so rare for anyone to master that piece of magic much younger…" Sirius trailed off uncertainly, remembering who he was talking to.

Harry only shrugged. Mr. Black didn't need to know Ginny's age and he didn't have a plan to give it. "I don't think she'll be coming for this one. A bit obvious if you ask me." If Harry was honest with himself, that was only half the reason. If these rats-of-men wanted to harm his human, then logic dictated he not bring her along on a mission to kill them. She'd just worry anyway.

"That's fine. I think the sooner we do this, the better. I think Friday should do it. Get it over with quickly, but still make everyone think you're just pulling a prank on the village for the weekend. I'd like to be out of the area sometime soon and back to warmer climates. Scotland in winter is hardly the most hospitable place, even with a fur coat."

Harry nodded in brief agreement. Winter was hard even on dogs, he supposed. "Where will you go?"

Sirius shrugged. "I dunno, mate. Here, there, a bit of everywhere, kind of hard to say when you're a wanted murderer."

"But you're innocent," Harry reminded him.

"True, but not if this works. Then I will be guilty of at least one murder I was charged with and maybe a second I wasn't. Didn't kill all those Muggles, but I doubt the Ministry will listen long enough to find out the truth. Don't worry, Harry, I'll still pop in from time to time. Wouldn't want you growing all the way up without your Dogfather."

Harry raised one eyebrow sceptically. "That was a terrible pun, Mr. Black."

"Ah, but I'm so very Punny today."

"Mr. Black."

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Sirius replied, standing tall and then bowing deeply at the waist.

"Kneazles are well known haters of puns, they are also well known for their ability to castrate larger beings quickly and efficiently. If you don't stop, I'll demonstrate the truth of both statements."

Sirius grabbed his groin in a protective fashion and smirked. "Whatever you say, Kneazle-boy."

oOo

"Harry, you need to focus! You've not produced a corporeal Patronus this whole time? What is it? Is there something wrong?" Professor Remus J. Lupin, Werewolf-extraordinaire asked briskly. He had such high hopes for the boy, and now it seemed he'd regressed considerably.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I just have a lot on my mind. I am having trouble concentrating."

"That much is obvious," Remus sighed. "Take a break, Harry. Collect your thoughts, and focus. Would you like a cup of tea?"

Harry shook his head. He had never much cared for tea, unless it featured far more milk than tea. "Butterbeer, then? I don't think…"

"Oh, yeah! That stuff is good," Harry replied eagerly. The professor gave him a quizzical look.

"When would you have had Butterbeer?"

"When Ginny and I snuck into Hogsmeade."

The older man's eyes went wide. "Is that something you should be confessing to a teacher, Harry?"

"No harm in it. Dumbledore already knows, and I'm sure I'll do it again. Not like they can stop me," was Harry's saucy reply.

"I see… And why don't you think they could stop you? Perhaps there are teachers here who know these walls better than you do."

Harry raised one eyebrow in a highly amused fashion. "Please, Professor, a little credit is due. I am a ninjoo after all."

"Ah, I see…" was the only thing Lupin could come up with, as he puzzled as to exactly what a ninjoo was.

Harry twisted his bottle around in his hand for what seemed like ages. A question had formed in his head, but he wasn't sure what to do about it. It wasn't as if he could just blurt it out…

"Kneazle got your tongue, Harry?"

"Excuse me, Professor?"

"Something on your mind, son?" Remus asked in a slightly more gentle manner.

"How long have you been a wolf?" Harry blurted out. The shocked look on his Professor's face, almost made Harry regret it.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Potter."

Harry's face screwed up in irritation. Harry knew that the other man knew exactly what he was talking about. An old Kneazle saying came to mind, 'Mate while the mouser is in heat.' He wasn't exactly sure how it applied, but it seemed like a sound piece of advice.

"Please, Professor," Harry scoffed. "You know what I'm talking about. I only ask, because normally wolves travel in packs and you are most definitely alone. I also haven't seen you hunting the local wildlife. You are certainly a different kind of wolf, Professor, and I'm just trying to figure out why."

Brown eyes bored into green, and there seemed to be a contest of wills battling just below the visible surface of the room. Lupin was fighting too many feelings for anything to be sorted quickly. There was anger at the boy's presumptuousness, fear at discovery, and hurt at the realization that the only son of his long time school friend would likely hate him if he told the truth and distrust him if he lied.

"Harry, this isn't something I'm very comfortable talking about. My… kind isn't well regarded in Wizarding society. I would appreciate it if you wouldn't tell anyone about this. Consider it my price for these private lessons of yours."

Harry nodded slowly. "I guess I'm just trying to figure out why you aren't with your pack, Professor. I see my adopted Pride every week and my home Pride during holidays. Mum told me that I'm one of the only one's she's ever heard of that had two to call their own. Besides, you don't seem totally bad. I mean, you don't eat kittens, or howl at the moon. Your prey is generally larger, and I know for a fact your kind is rubbish at catching rabbits."

"What the hell are you babbling about?" Remus' temper finally boiled to the surface. Was the boy making fun of him?

"I'm sorry, Professor. I know wolves are social creatures, just like we Kneazles are."

"Harry, you're either being very rude or you're drunk. You aren't a Kneazle."

Now it was Harry's turn to become affronted. After all, this man had even seen his true form, one of the boy's most closely guarded secrets. After a moment, though, the initial outburst of anger subsided and he realized this was all a misunderstanding.

"Professor, I know you probably think of my parents as Mum-Lily and Dad-James, but they aren't really. They did a noble thing, sacrificing themselves for me, but that was under Isis' guidance. She led them to face the Dark Dobermans of Anubis and they laid down their lives in my lady's service. Few humans are chosen like that. It remains however, that my form was a temporary one, and I have been given this boon by Isis that I might rejoin the world of my first birth, but really, deep down inside, I'm still Kneazle."

"You're drunk. I didn't think you could get drunk on Butterbeer. I thought the 'beer' part was more a joke than anything…"

Harry finally growled in frustration. "Oh for Bast's iron claws! I AM a Kneazle. Ask your Dumbledore. You are at least part wolf, just as Cousin McGonagall is part feline. AH! That's it. You're only wolf some of the time. "

"Erm… yes, I suppose that's right."

"Well then, Professor, for a part time wolf, you certainly don't make a bad one. You certainly haven't tried to rend anyone limb from limb. After all, I'm friends with a part time dog and even he can be useful sometimes."

Harry saw his professor's demeanour change in an instant, from uncomfortably wary to downright fierce.

"Who's a part time dog, Harry? Is it a great big black one?"

Harry grinned insolently. "Sorry Professor, but those types of secrets can only be bribed out of me by flirtatious mollies and men with scratching posts. I do hope you can do better. Now, shall we resume?"

"Not tonight. I'm feeling worn out. Finish your butterbeer and then you can head back to your common room. Make sure you practice your focus for next week."

"Oh, ok then." With that, Harry gulped the last of the bottle's contents and set it on the desk.

Harry headed back to the common room in a daze. What had possessed him to ask such a foolhardy question? He knew above everyone else about the secrecy of one's origins. The more he thought about it, the more he realized, he had to know. He needed to know if, like Mr. Black, the Professor could be trusted with defending the castle's kittens. If he was always a wolf then instinct would clearly say no, but as a part time wolf? Maybe, and that gave Harry a glimmer of hope. If he could get a wolf and dog to fight with him, then the rat wouldn't stand a chance.

Harry climbed through the portrait hole, finally realizing how tired he actually was, when Ginny's voice sharpened his focus. "Harry! There you are. I've been waiting for you."

"Whatever for?"

"Paws, what are you planning? I want in," Ginny shot out.

Harry was taken aback. He didn't think anyone had noticed his strange mood for the past few days; he only needed a little more time. "Nothing, Sparkplug."

Ginny glared fiercely at her friend. "Don't 'nothing' me, Harry. I know you're planning something. Even Ron has noticed you've been acting strangely and he doesn't notice much. Now, what are you planning? I want in."

Harry thought for a moment and decided to give the only response he could. "No."

"What do you mean, no?" Ginny sputtered.

"I mean no. It isn't safe for you, Sparkplug and I won't risk you again."

"Bloody hell, Harry! I saved your life in the forest. That's the only reason you're still alive. You're doing the same thing as when you and my git of a brother went into the Chamber last year. I won't be protected!"

"Ginny, it's more than just simple protection. If I could have you along, I would in a heartbeat, but you're just too conspicuous and what I'm planning needs stealth and concealment."

"Concealment… like when I was in the pumpkin patch and we got the drop on Mr. Black?" Ginny asked, anger evident in her voice.

"Ginny, you haven't been trained to hunt like I have. I don't want someone spotting a bloody great lion romping through… That's enough. I'm not saying anything more. You're not going, end of story."

"Romping through where, Harry? Sod a duck I thought we were friends!"

"We are, Sparkplug."

"Then treat me like one. Let me help you."

"I don't take kittens hunting adders," Harry growled.

Ginny stood, her eyes flashing with poorly disguised ferocity. "Is that all I am to you, Harry? Some kitten to be wrapped in padding and kept in a glass case? I won't do it. If you can't trust me, then we're not friends." With that final pronouncement, she stood and ran up the dormitory. Tiny teardrops falling in her wake.

"Well, sex…"

The next day was no better. For the first time in anyone's memory, Ginny and Harry were not sitting side by side. In fact, it seemed that the diminutive red-head was attempting to put as much distance between herself and her former friend as humanly possible.

"What happened, mate?" Ron kept asking, but Harry could only give him a sad shake of his head. If this was what she wanted, who was he to intrude? She was his human after all and though Kneazles were loath to admit it, their pets did have a certain say over their own destinies. But as much as he wanted to tell her his fabulous plan, Harry knew she needed to sit this one out. She might not understand, but when he brought her the heads of Rodolphus Lestrange and Peter Pettigrew, he was sure she'd forgive him. After all, she always squealed so cheerfully over the mice he used to bring her.

After a time Ron let it drop, but Hermione kept fixing him with intense and penetrating glares. "Leave it be, Hermione," he finally snapped.

"I can't, Harry. You're my friend and you're up to something. I can't decide if it is the usual up to something, like breaking Malfoy's body parts or skiving off classes, or something I should have more success in talking you out of."

Harry sighed and locked eyes with the bushy haired witch. "Definitely the second, but you've had enough dealings with those to know you won't get any further than with the first."

Hermione sighed dramatically and glared. "I suppose so, but you will be careful, won't you?"

Harry gave her a cheeky grin as he headed for the dormitory stairs. "I'm always good, but I'll certainly try to be careful, too."

oOo

Friday evening was seemed an eternity, even when Harry skived off at least two in the afternoon to discuss the hunting strategy for that evening with the Pride. Their excitement steadily built as the sun crept lower in the sky, until it was finally time for the whole group to disperse throughout Hogsmeade.

Harry sat just inside the gloom of the Forbidden Forest with Sirius. For the first time since he was a kitten, he felt fear at the prospect of hunting.

"Nervous?" Sirius asked in an obvious attempt to pass the remaining time before it was their turn to head underneath the Whomping Willow.

"A bit. Most of my whole adopted family is going to be out there. What if something happens to them? It feels like every year I cost them something."

Sirius cast a sideways glance at the young man sitting next to him. "You really think you're one of them, don't you kidder?"

"I know I'm one of them, Mr. Black, I only like to pretend I'm one of you," Harry shot back and then fell silent.

They sat there, each lost in his own thoughts until the sun finally began to disappear from the sky.

"Alright, pup, I'm headed over. Remember, in thirty minutes I want you through and making one hell of a racket. You'll come out by the Shrieking Shack, but there is a small stone outcropping further outside the village. Head over that way after you've set off your fireworks and such. I'll be nearby, even if you don't see me."

Harry snorted as Sirius got up to leave. "I think I'd have a better chance of missing a rampaging manticore on a motorcycle."

_AN: So, here is Harry's plan. I hope you all like it. The rock idea came from Silverbirch (a fond shout out to him!) As always, I can never be sure when the next chapter will strike as UPDATE MAN is currently locked in guerrilla warfare with REAL LIFE! And, since I haven't said so before a huge thanks to my betas Arnel and Rosina Ferguson. Together we are TEAM UPDATE! And my faithful cat Luna without whom I would likely get much more done, but as she is a constant source of inspiration I can't mind too much. Also, I am officially looking for any suggestions for the Tri-wizard tournament. How would you have Kneazle-Harry deal with the tasks? I big plate of virtual cookies to anyone who can help! Thanks again for reading and reviewing._


	36. Many Fights

Moving silently was a hard habit to break. In the bushes too much noise could get you killed. 'It's a trap, they're supposed to see you,' Harry reminded himself, as he purposefully stepped on an inordinately loud twig. "Damn!" Harry cursed. The twig was supposed to catch their attention, not signal that a parade of pygmy hippopotami were taking ballet lessons.

The sun had barely set, and the soft orange glow had given way to an eerie light blue that was rapidly darkening. The piece of human bait was surprised he hadn't heard his canine over-watch rustling about in the nearby bushes. He was situated near to the Shrieking Shack, Harry supposed. Finally, it was time to get down to business. He rummaged around in his knapsack that Sirius had given him and he brought out a whole box of Filibuster Fireworks. Harry grinned as he read the 'Extra Explosive' tag on the side. It had taken an extra Galleon or two, but he'd been able to get a crate of them into Hogwarts. The real trick had been convincing Fred and George to add their own considerable potion talents to the mix.

Harry tapped the end of one with his wand and it flew up into the night sky… 'KA-BOOM!'. The explosion was deafening and flung the boy on the flat of his back. After pausing a second for the ringing in his ears to die down, he grinned and lit another one.

Harry was grinning ear to ear. He felt like the Kneazle who'd just stolen the Knarl's milk. Why hadn't he done something like this before? He almost felt badly for Fred and George, giving up this kind of life, though he understood why.

'Boom!' Another rocket exploded above the Wizarding village, and decorated their night sky with a variety of crude yet inventive words.

"What does 'sod a duck' mean anyway?" Harry murmured to himself.

'I imagine you'll find out when you go to use it.'

Harry's head swivelled so quickly it might have given him whiplash. "Electrolux, I didn't hear you sneak up."

'That's kind of the point of sneaking. Any sign of the rat or his rat-friend?'

Harry shook his head. "No not, GET DOWN!" Harry dropped flat as a suspiciously familiar green jet of light whistled overhead. Harry rolled quickly to his feet and sprinted to the bushy outcropping of flora, adorning the fearsome rock mound. To change or not to change? Harry pondered. That was the question. If he changed now, he could sneak away with little difficulty. However, this was his plan and he was supposed to be bait. "Find the rest and the dog, too. Let them know what's going on. I've a feeling I'll need help before too long. I've only seven lives left, I think."

'Right-o, boss! I'll be back in two shakes of a bicorn's udder.' With that odd pronouncement, Electrolux shot off into the distance to find reinforcements.

Another series of hexes rattled the bushes all around the now-alone boy. "Dammit. They keep moving," Harry muttered. It was true, every time a series of curses would come out of the nearby woods, the caster seemed to change position. The caster was smart, Harry realised, and he wasn't used to dealing with smart.

Thinking rapidly, Harry changed once more into his natural state and slunk out of the bushes, noting with satisfaction that the enemy wizard failed to take stock of his movement. Out thinking the prey, that's what Father would have done, and for all Harry knew, James-dad might have too. Well, if James-dad weren't being prey himself. Perhaps though, his human parents and real parents weren't all that different after all.

Perhaps the prey was not as smart as he had originally thought, Harry mused as he crept through the light underbrush on the edge of the forest. The spells were coming increasingly frequently from one place. What was more troublesome was that Sirius had not arrived yet, but Harry realised that if this plan was to work it needed to happen in the next minute or two, Sirius or no.

Closer and closer Harry crept, until his superb Kneazle senses could make out the distinct form of a man that Harry didn't recognise on sight, but he felt the same as the rat. He was short and fat and he even looked like a rat. Harry's night would be complete once he killed this one. Looking around briefly, he didn't see anyone accomplice. Perhaps the other man got cold feet, or decided that tackling a magically trained Kneazle was too much even for the both of them, either way, Harry was happy he could concentrate on one prey at a time.

Sneaking closer and closer to the rat-man, Harry's predatory instincts were disturbed by a vocal yowling. 'Boss, there's one behind you!' The small form of Electrolux sprinting as fast as his four legs would carry him drew everyone's attention for just a moment and then Harry turned and for the first time noticed a man who he could have sworn wasn't there before. He was a tall, thin, evil looking bloke whose face would be used to terrify kittens into behaving and drinking their milk. Luckily, the little Kneazle's warning saved Harry's life. The split second alert was all he needed to dodge a well cast Killing Curse. Harry hissed angrily. Now they were playing dirty. It was obvious they knew who he was, with or without fur, and a moment later Harry was once again sporting opposable thumbs and wielding his wand with ferocious intent. Unfortunately, Harry was not half the magical duellist that either of his opponents were and very suddenly, he found himself facing two.

"Hehe, baby Potter all grown up and magical now? What do you think we should do with him, Pettigrew?" the tall evil looking bloke asked.

"Lestrange, stop playing with him and kill it."

"Don't want to get your hands dirty?" Lestrange asked, as he cast several more hexes. Harry barely managed to dodge. "Fine, then. Have it your way, coward. The Dark Lord remembers those who do his bidding faithfully, Pettigrew, and he remembers those that ran away and lived in a rat hole," Lestrange sneered. "_Avada_… YEAHHH!" The curse was interrupted by sharp and pointed claws digging into Lestrange's leg and onwards up towards his unprotected groin. Another larger Kneazle leapt and dug deeply into the man's face. The shock of it caused Pettigrew to pause for a moment, and that was all Harry needed. "_Petrificus Totalus"_ Harry shouted and with a startled squeak, Peter Pettigrew went rigid and planted face down on the ground. Harry spun just in time to witness Lestrange's cruelty. He had shaken both offending Kneazles off his personage and immobilized them on the ground. For the moment, it seemed Harry was forgotten.

"_Crucio!" _he cried, and Harry stood for a moment in dumb horror as both his adoptive Pridemates writhed in agony, emitting only small mews of protest.

Harry drew his knife without thinking and sprang at the torturous offender, but it was too late. "_Avada Kedavra!" _ the older man cried with vindictive pleasure. Harry's mind was fortunately too far gone to notice the curse strike home.

Lestrange's distraction proved to be his undoing, as the razor sharp blade cut cleanly and seemingly magically through layers of tissue.

"YEAHGH!" Lestrange roared in pain. Harry smirked victoriously. The man's arm was bleeding profusely and it hung limply at an angle. "You bastard, I'll kill you!" he screamed like a wounded animal. The sheer number of hexes that followed seemed to indicate that despite his injuries, Rodolphus Lestrange's wand arm was not the one injured. "_Reducto!" _he bellowed, as Harry dove out of the way, leaving a clear path between the spell and the unused portion of the box of fireworks still lying on the ground.

The explosion became a legend around Hogsmeade after that night, but if anyone had ever asked Harry about it, he could truthfully say he didn't remember a thing as the darkness claimed him.

oOo

"Uhgggg…" Harry heard and felt himself moan. Every bone in his body felt broken and his chest felt unnaturally restricted. He opened his eyes gradually to reveal, unsurprisingly, the interior of what he guessed was the hospital wing. He took a brief glance at his wrists and discovered that this time, at least, he wasn't chained to the bed.

He sat up slowly and finally noticed the reason his legs seemed so heavy. Ginny had her small, yet dense, form draped over both legs, sound asleep. "Sparkplug, I don't mean to disturb you, but I have to use the loo."

"Unghh…" Ginny mumbled.

"Ginny, wake up!" Harry nearly shouted. Ginny obliged by sitting bolt upright and sliding unceremoniously to the floor.

"Damn it, Paws! What is wrong with you? You know what, don't answer that. I can't even begin to count all the things that have to be wrong with your head. I mean really, blowing up the Shrieking Shack? What in the hell were you thinking? And stop smiling at me!" Ginny fumed.

Harry's smile didn't shrink one bit as he replied, "You called me Paws. You seem to care. I guess you don't hate me quite as much as you thought?"

Ginny huffed. "I'm just… it's not like… bugger off, Paws."

Their impromptu reunion was dispelled by the doors of the Hospital slamming open with impressive force. In strode a very angry looking Professor McGonagall and an equally tired looking Dumbledore.

"Miss Weasley! What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" McGonagall admonished. Ginny's feeble protests were swept aside with a dismissive gesture as the elderly Transfiguration professor continued her angry tirade.

Finally, Harry had heard enough. He knew Ginny was merely worried about him, and to be fair, looking at his condition, she had a right to be. So perhaps due to the pain, or maybe just a lack of sense, Harry interrupted his strict head of house.

"Flatten your fur, McGiggles. It isn't like she stole the treat tin. She was just worried about me."

"Mr. Potter, what did you call me?" McGonagall asked. Even Harry could discern the ice cold killer intent behind her words.

"Erm… McGiggles, you know… because you laugh so much and you're so… light-hearted," Harry finished lamely. His eyes were now firmly fixed to his lap. A moment later, all eyes were fixed on the Transfiguration Professor as she emitted a low throaty growl. Harry found himself, for the first time since arriving, afraid of one of his professors.

"Mr. Potter, I will say this once. If you ever refer to me as 'McGiggles' again, I will eviscerate you with my own claws. Is that understood, cousin?"

"Minerva," Dumbledore cut in. "Childish nicknames are hardly the reason for our visit here. So please, control yourself." Seeming suddenly ashamed at her own lack of self control, she stepped away from the bed and mumbled an unintelligible apology to the Headmaster.

"Firstly, if you would excuse us, Miss Weasley?" Ginny nodded slowly and stalked out of the hospital. Harry knew she hated being left out of things. "Now, Harry," Dumbledore continued in a grave tone. "I have to impress upon you the trouble you are in. You have not only flouted multiple school rules, you destroyed a historic landmark in Hogsmeade."

"You mean the Shrieking Shack? How is that historic? It was just an old house sitting on top of an entrance to Hogwarts."

McGonagall gasped, and Dumbledore became strangely silent.

"Mr. Potter, how did you find that?" McGonagall asked.

"I'm a Kneazle, Professor, we know everything."

"There is something then that I wish to know," Dumbledore interjected. When the injured student in front of him did not offer anything up he continued. "What in Merlin's name do you think you were doing?" Dumbledore's voice was deathly calm. Harry had never heard the normally jovial headmaster use such a tone, but the sudden throbbing in his ribs distracted any further thoughts.

"I was hunting the rat and his friend, Professor. I brought them out of hiding with the fireworks and my friends were supposed to sneak up on them. Then all hell broke loose and we blew up a house. Not like I intended it."

"The rat? What on earth is he talking about, Albus?" McGonagall whispered to her headmaster.

"Harry, I have told you before, Peter Pettigrew is dead."

"Really? Then who was the short smarmy git that cursed Ron? If you're about to say Sirius Black, then I know for certain you aren't thinking of the same Sirius Black that I am."

"And how, Harry, would you know what Sirius looks like?"

"Isis helped me. Do you want me to lie to you, Headmaster, or would you like the truth which you're going to find out eventually anyway."

"I want the truth, Harry."

"You can't handle the truth," Harry shot back. "If you could, then you wouldn't be so insistent on caging Mr. Black.

"Harry," Dumbledore's voice carried a note of warning that no one could miss. Harry relented.

"Fine, he was supposed to be one of the friends who was going to help me kill Pettigrew and Lestrange. When he didn't show up I had to run by the tips of my whiskers. If all went as we planned, I'd be presenting you with two heads instead of a sorry explanation as to why my hunting expedition failed."

"You've been working with Sirius Black?" McGonagall asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Harry merely rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Cousin, and he hasn't once tried to kill me. He even fixed Angelina. He really is a quite helpful and rather devious man when you let him out. At this point, I can't think of a reason not to trust him. It isn't like he hasn't had ample opportunities to kill me, and for the last time Pettigrew is alive! I can describe him if you'd like."

"Mr. Potter-"

"Five foot eight or so, definitely over weight, buck teeth and a receding hair line. Missing his left front fore finger. Do I have to go on?"

The room was dead silent. "He was missing his finger?" Dumbledore repeated.

"Yes! It was hardly something I would miss, as close as I was. Not to be confused with the Lestrange fellow, who might very well be missing his right arm."

The room fell silent for a few moments as both teachers processed what their student had told them. It seemed impossible. There had been dozens of witnesses to the Black killings. If Sirius hadn't killed Peter, why would he have betrayed James and Lily? Unless…

"Minerva, it seems there is much for us to consider. As it stands, I believe Harry's involvement in this can be kept quiet. That is, if Harry agrees to it."

"What would I have to do?"

"Don't tell anyone about what happened tonight. There will be enough people to put two and two together after the explosion and you in here, Mr. Potter," McGonagall lectured.

"How would anyone know about the explosion?" Harry said, perplexed.

"The same way we did. It, along with your spectacular fireworks show was clearly visible from the castle. You will have to congratulate Misters Weasley on their unique product." With that, Dumbledore smiled slowly and stood, leaving Harry slack jawed.

How had he known about the help the twins had given him? It took him long enough to get them to agree. It was only after he promised to use it to 'blast the slimy bugger who hurt ickle-Ronnikins' that they had agreed. "This is the last time, though, Harry. We're through with pranks and jokes. Consider this a debt repaid," they had said.

Harry cheerfully pointed out that while they themselves could of course not be pranksters thanks to their own self imposed code, it shouldn't mean that they would let their fairly brilliant minds be squandered. There was a fine line between a practical joke and helping friends. This had left the two older boys speechless, but their mute nodding told Harry that he'd obviously made an impression. The question still was, how had Albus Kneazle-Molester Dumbledore managed to discover their involvement. He stared dumbly at the closing doors as he vowed to weasel it out of the twins one way or another.

It seemed, however, that surprises weren't quite finished for the evening. Harry gawked as the one scenic view out the window was blocked by Ron and Hermione, riding tandem on what appeared to be a very wobbly broom.

"If we fall, I'm going to bloody kill you, Ron!"

"If you'd stop wiggling your bum so much, we wouldn't be in any danger of falling. Now just lean forward gently… I said gently, woman!" Ron yelled as the hurtled in through the window, obviously much faster than intended. Hermione shrieked as she toppled off sideways, pulling Ron with her.

"Bloody hell, Hermione. I can't believe you did that. We were only going up," Ron huffed.

"I told you I didn't take to brooms well, but you insisted we had to do this!"

"You only told me _after_ we were fifteen feet up in the air. How is that my fault?"

"Why are you here?" Harry finally asked, interrupting the makings of an epic spat.

"To look in on you of course!" Hermione and Ron both exclaimed simultaneously.

"We had to know you were safe, obviously," Hermione chided.

"How did you even know I was involved? Did Ginny tell you?"

"No, mate. We saw the explosion and figured it had to be you. What were you doing out there, anyway?" Ron queried.

"Trying to kill Pettigrew and Lestrange. I almost had the blighters, but they pulled a double cross or something. Killed a couple Kneazles too…" Harry suddenly became quite sombre when he remembered the death of two of his friends. He wasn't sure exactly which ones they were, it was too dark and chaotic for him to be sure, but he was going to find out. "Do you mind if I borrow your broom, for a bit?"

"Harry! You can't just borrow it. We stole that-"

"Liberated," Ron corrected.

"Fine, we liberated that from a school broom shed. If it isn't returned… Not to mention we snuck in here. We aren't supposed to be in here at all. What if Madam Pomfrey returns? We'll be in detention for life. And what are we supposed to do while you're off doing whatever it is you're doing?" Hermione ranted.

"You two could always shag," Harry suggested. "Father told me once it was a good stress reliever and a wonderful way to pass the time. At the very least, Ron might get to be first at something."

"Oi! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you'll be first with a kitten. Stand out a bit, yeah?" With that final pronouncement, Harry snatched up the broom ran to the window and sailed out.

"Well, I suppose it's good he stopped jumping out with no good support, but what are we supposed to do now?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"Harry did have a point, and it would be a shame to let these beds go to waste, Hermione." Ron let his comment sink in for a moment or two before bursting out laughing. "Blimey, that was a good one. Your face, I swear. You should have seen it! I'll have to tell Neville about that one…" Ron choked out through his tears and loud guffaws.

"So you're saying you wouldn't want to?" Hermione asked.

"Well, no. Not unless it was shagging Vanessa Cockatrice."

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"You know, that bird from the Witchy Sisters. She did a couple of songs you might have heard of… Bloody brilliant, she is. I mean she's got huge-"

"Ron, you're a pig. I can't believe… Ohhh… BOYS!" With that final pronouncement, Hermione stormed out of the hospital wing, paying no attention to the obvious trouble she could get in if caught.

"Mental… absolutely mental. It's not like she can blame me. I mean, who wouldn't want to shag Vanessa Cockatrice?" Ron muttered, as he followed quickly after her.

Meanwhile, the intrepid Paws of Hogwarts had finally found the Pride.

"What happened?" he blurted out, when finally face to face with Rex. She was sporting a cut above her eye and nursing a possibly broken paw.

'We were trying to avoid being turned into a fur coat. We had found the tall man earlier that day, and he never paid us much attention. The rat though, was trickier. We couldn't find him until it was too late. That dog of yours came bounding through, sounding like a Banshee mating with a Basilisk. That man has no hope of hunting, none I tell you.'

"Right, but what happened to the rest of you. I'll worry about him, later," Harry huffed.

'Well, as I was saying he came bounding through and suddenly the rat man was right on top of him. Stunned the puppy and then he did some fancy wand waving and quite unexpectedly there were three or four rather large wolves that seemed intent on Kneazle for dinner. We did the best we could with them, but both men got away. It wasn't until little Electrolux came and got help that we even knew you were here.'

"I saw the Lestrange bastard kill two of ours, who were they?"

'Can't be sure, but Father called the roll and Electrolux and Igglebum are missing. If you saw two killed there, then that must be what happened. Everyone else is accounted for.'

"Not again…" Harry whispered. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes. He'd felt rage when the unicorns were killed, terror when Hobart was taken, but this was the first time he'd had cause to feel a deep grief. It wasn't as though they all didn't know that someone could die. They followed him anyway. Perhaps that was what made it so much more painful. He had led them. They had gone willingly, not galvanized by a sense of duty to protect a kitten or avenge a death. They had followed him and he had caused the death of two of his good friends. What kind of a mouser was he after all?

'Harry, darling, these things happen. That's why mum has four or five kittens in a litter. We can't all live forever and maybe the Humans might try, but we Kneazles have to understand the delicate balance of life and death. Just think, if we never died… moles would become a thing of the past, and food would be scarce. Even those delicious treats you've brought from time to time might disappear completely. No, they died to help you. Remember that and honour it by presenting Mum with their carcasses.'

"I suppose so… In honour of the two kittens she lost, I'll kill them both," Harry growled.

'That's the spirit. If you want to talk to the dog, he's recuperating over there… somewhere.' Rex batted her paw somewhat dismissively. Harry nodded and dropped to four paws from two legs, making his trek through the underbrush easier.

'Mr. Black.?' Harry mewed loudly.

'Hello, pup. How you?'

'I'm fine, do you mind telling me what happened out there?'

'Not sure, came out and was quiet. Then hit. Must be magic.'

'Yes, Mr. Black, very good. I'm quite sure it was magic. I'll tell you what happened. You were Stunned and your plan went all to shite. It got two of my adoptive brothers killed. Next time we kill something, we do it my way, big rocks and all. Now, what are your thoughts about the two Kneazle killers?'

'Not sure. May have left. Heard Dumbledore save day. Nice of him. May try again, but no think so. Peter afraid, Rabastian crazy. He trouble, Peter run. Now we know secret he no safe.'

'Mr. Black, I think you are quite wrong. These animals are Kneazle-killers, like a rabid dog. Once they get it in their system, they won't let it go and I doubt Mr. Lestrange is so forgiving as to merely let Peter go if he is as crazy as you say.'

'What you want to do?'

'We wait, patiently and not slobbering all over a bone. Then, when the time is right, we pounce and hit them with a big rock.'

'You joke?'

'Well the rock could be metaphorical, but it doesn't have to be. I'm okay with squishing them, just as long as they're dead. In the meantime, you owe this Pride a debt. You will help by patrolling the edge of their territory to make up for their lost family.'

'How long you want?'

'Until two new toms can be trained. Rex will let you know where to go.'

'I no know Rex.'

'You will, Mr. Black, believe me, you will.'

'Where you go?'

'Back to the castle, Mr. Black. I have a bed waiting for me and likely a molly to reassure. I also have to make sure that orange hornball doesn't leave behind quarter Kneazle kittens. Now if you will excuse me.'

Harry trudged back to the castle, an impressive feat for such a usually graceful Kneazle, and made it quickly back to the common room. He scanned the seemingly deserted space for any sign that his Ginny might be awake still, but alas it seemed he would have to wait to share the idea that had begun formulating in his mind.

It was a simple one, really. She needed protection, and he needed an assistant it seemed more and more frequently. However, she couldn't accompany him because she lacked the proper field craft that all Kneazles learned as kittens. So there was one way to solve this… Harry's train of thought was quickly derailed by movement in his peripheral vision. He spun quickly on his paws, and spotted the cause of it all. Unfortunately the cause had spotted him as well, and four lamp-like eyes peered back at him from the dark depths of the cushions of Ginny's favourite armchair.

'What in the name of Isis do you think you're doing?' Harry yowled as he strode menacingly towards the eyes in question.

'Erm… nothing?' It came out as more of a question.

'Mog, who do you have with you? I don't recognise the… it's a molly. Mog, why do you have a molly in my human's favourite armchair?'

'What's it to you, anyway, interloper? Gorgeous and I were having a perfectly delightful time before you interrupted. Now, why don't you go chase your tail, or do something useful?'

'Shhh… dearest, not now. I don't want to…'

Harry remembered the scent now. It was all over the castle, so perhaps he just hadn't put it all together. 'Norris? Mog, you're mating the ice queen herself?'

'Watch who you're calling an ice queen, pet.' At this verbal volley, Crookshanks made his need for both parties to back down, perfectly clear. Neither were willing.

'Pet? I'm a free spirit, you housebound molly. Mog, please get her out of here.'

'Gorgeous can decide when we want to leave. He doesn't take orders from you.'

'Gorgeous?' Harry choked out. 'Is that your name now, Crookshanks?'

'Harry, come on… please?' Crookshanks nearly whined.

'Oh no, mate. This one is far too good to let go.'

'I was speaking to you!' Norris mewed.

'I was done with you. Now remove your tail from my human's chair or I will hex you.'

'A mere pet, hex me?'

In a flash, Harry was once again on two legs and rapidly brandishing his wand. "Yes, Norris, hex you. Now leave." His voice was deadly calm. With wide eyes both cats stood and walked quickly out the small hole in the wall that the castle provided for those less suited to traipsing through the portrait hole.

"I can't believe it. On her favourite chair!" Harry muttered to himself, as he climbed the staircase to his waiting bed. Tomorrow would be better, he promised himself.

_AN: Thanks again to all for the wait. I hope the fight scene was worth it. One thing I am considering and I would like feedback if it matters to you, is disabling anonymous reviews. Not because I dislike what is being said (on the contrary, the vast majority are very positive) but because I would like to be able to respond to any praise or criticism about this story. I hope you all enjoy it and a special thanks to Silverbirch and his story one of nine for some of the crooks/Norris interaction. Hope you all enjoyed it! _

–_To these things you must return_


	37. Recovery

The Harry's departure from the hospital wing didn't go unnoticed but was not prosecuted, and fortunately Hermione and Ron had managed to return to Gryffindor Tower without incident. However, these minor victories paled in comparison to the problems the young Kneazle faced now. Ron and Hermione seemed fully on his side, but Neville had been keeping an icy distance ever since Harry had let it slip that Lestrange had been there and Neville wasn't invited to the party. While this was perplexing, Harry chalked it up to the other boy's need for revenge and a lack of proper understanding about what it meant to kill someone.

Ginny on the other hand had been downright infuriating. She had been studiously avoiding him and would leave the area whenever he approached. He'd tried everything from apologising and owl ordering her flowers on the suggestion of Ron, to leaving several choice mice (cleanly killed of course) in her shoes. Nothing had worked, and Harry was beginning to get desperate. He was reasonably sure why she was angry with him and he even had a plan to fix it if she would only listen to him. Therein lay the problem. She just wouldn't be reasonable, and Harry was getting desperate.

Perhaps it was the strain of Quidditch practise, the continued awkwardness with Professor Lupin during Patronus lessons, or the constant barrage of 'when will you get a decent broom, Potter?', but with the looming Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor game only two days away, Harry snapped.

Tired and thoroughly frozen from a strenuous Quidditch practice in the frigid Scottish air, Harry clambered through the portrait hole and nearly collapsed right there. He realised that he was so tired and distracted he'd brought the Comet 260 with him and not left it in the school broom shed as he ought. Riding the school brooms wasn't easy, and the Hippogriffs were getting increasingly frustrated at his insistence that he had to ride a broom during practice. "Wood would have my head if I tried to ride you out there," Harry had patiently explained. Their persistance that he was going to break his neck on something that was never meant to fly had frayed what was left of his self-control, and when he stumbled towards the fire to warm up, he noticed Ginny.

She was working on Potions, it seemed and suddenly she noticed him too. He could take the silence, and her rigid body language as she stood and slammed her book closed, but the venomous look of betrayal mixed with a tiny amount of loathing was too much. He thought they'd made progress when he'd been under Madam Pomfrey's care, but it appeared it was only a brief respite. So, Harry failed to restrain his temper.

"_Petrificus Totalus!"_ he shouted, and Ginny went rigid as a board and fell face forward onto a convenient couch. "Oi!" Ron's indignant shout could be heard from the corner, but Harry wasn't listening. He walked quickly and deliberately over to his frozen friend, and conjured a set of ropes. Harry quickly bound his human to the broom, mounted it and with a quick cry of "_Reducto"_ removed the window that blocked his expedient exit. Moments later, the airborne Kneazle boy and his captive human were landing a little beyond Hagrid's hut.

"I'm sorry about this, Sparkplug, but you haven't left me any choice. Now, I'm going to talk, you're going to listen and when I'm done I'm going to let you go and you're likely going to scream at me and hex my bits off. Either way, I need you to hear this," Harry said, staring purposefully into the rage-filled eyes of his human. "Ginny, I'm not sorry I left you behind. You were a liability, but I realize now that I need someone who can always watch my tail. It took nearly getting blown up to do it, but you're the best human I can think of. The dog is no help and as much as I love the rest of the Pride, they can't use a wand. I got them killed, Ginny. Electrolux and Igglebum both died because I didn't have anyone to watch out for me while I am trying to protect everyone else," Harry's voice hitched, but he soldiered on with his confession coming in ragged breaths. "And as much as it hurts to know they're gone, I know that Isis will reward them for their service. It hurts, Sparkplug, more than I can say and maybe that's the human in me coming out, but as badly as it hurts to have lost them, I can't describe the agony at the thought of losing you, my dearest and oldest friend. So," Harry continued his voice now made stronger with purpose. "I want to make sure that you will always be able to watch my tail, and you're dead useful as a lioness. So, I propose that I begin teaching you the fine art of the hunt. How to move silently through the bushes, stalk prey without them noticing and slip silently away from predators. Of course it will be slightly different for you, being the largest of us, but I think you'll do fine. Now, I'm going to take this curse off and sit down. I accept whatever decision you think is best. _Finite Incantatem_," Harry finished and in a moment Ginny was free, looking both shaken and incredibly murderous.

"Harry," Ginny growled. "I don't know which curse to use first. I mean why couldn't you have talked to me in the common room? Why all the elaborate flying and hexing?"

Harry stared at her dumbstruck, not entirely sure how to answer that. "You were going to leave and I was desperate. You've been avoiding me."

"I have not!" Ginny replied hotly. Then after a moment conceded, "I suppose I have, haven't I?"

"Yes, Sparkplug, you have. You've been driving me positively barmy and I didn't know what else to do to explain it all to you. I'm really sorry about this whole thing, but I was hoping you'd understand in the end. So, what do you say? Do you want to learn the wiles of we Kneazles? No non-Kneazle has ever learned before."

"Did you mean what you said about never wanting to leave me behind?"

"I did."

"Is learning how to hunt the price for being able to make sure you're protected as much as I am?"

"It is."

"Then I'm in," Ginny quietly replied.

"Good, we begin tomorrow. I suggest during your History of Magic Class. I have a free period then and I think we can make a good start."

"Harry, I can't just skive off History, I mean it's one of the classes we're required to take."

"I did, why can't you? Do you do more than sleep in there anyway?"

Ginny looked at him perplexed. "I suppose not."

"Then don't worry about it. Just borrow Hermione's notes from last year."

Ginny nodded uncertainly, but finally agreed. "Will the other Kneazles help?"

"When I explain what I intend, I'm sure they will. Now, we better be getting back to the castle. Care for flying?"

Ginny grinned mischievously, "Do I have to be tied to the bottom again?"

"Not if we're back on speaking terms."

"Then I'd love to, Paws, but you know McGonagall is going to be in a right state about the window you destroyed."

"I'm sure she will be," Harry sighed. "But I'm sure she'll only take points away."

"I suppose. Now, let's fly!"

oOo

Harry stood nervously in the changing room as he listened to the muted sound of the roar of the crowd from the Quidditch Pitch. They were finally facing Ravenclaw, and after an hour argument the night before with Sir Gordon and the others, he'd finally acquiesced to leaving the broom behind in exchange for more naturally powered flight. Harry had checked with Ron once more to make sure that there wasn't a rule against it, but Ron had assured him that as long as whatever he was riding wasn't magically enhanced beyond normal specifications, then it was perfectly legal.

"Harry, where the bloody hell is your ride?" Oliver asked him. Harry hated lying, but the odd way in which Oliver had phrased the question had left just enough wiggle room. Harry could feel the human in him making the rationalization.

"Just outside, Oliver. Don't worry. We'll win today."

"We better. Did you get the Firebolt back?"

"Erm… not exactly," Harry stammered.

"What do you mean… oh bloody hell. Time to go, chaps!" With that final pronouncement, the doors opened to the stadium and Oliver Wood led his team to the most important Quidditch match they will every play… until the next one.

With his focus securely on the opposing team's captain, Wood missed the fact that his Seeker was sans broom. However it didn't miss the careful observation of many of the onlookers or his team mates.

"Harry, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" George hissed.

"Relax, twins. I've got a ride coming; I just don't want to tip my hand just yet."

"You better, Potter. You won't catch the Snitch standing on the ground," Katie Bell commented.

The jeers were becoming increasingly loud, especially from the Slytherin section, and the Gryffindor crowd looked worried. Where was Harry's broom?

"Captains, shake hands. I want a nice, clean game," Madam Hooch said as the two captains shook hands uneasily. There wasn't the fierce rivalry between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor that Slytherin enjoyed with the home of the brave, but it was Quidditch after all, and no one should take that lightly.

Madam hooch blew her whistle and all the players kicked off into the air, except Harry, who stood stock still for just a moment, emitting a whistle that would have summoned a London taxi cab from halfway across the city. An instant later, and one noble and gallant Hippogriff was making an emergency landing on the Quidditch pitch, causing cries of alarm from all those present. More so when Harry mounted his noble steed and they launched powerfully into the air.

"Harry! What in the name of Merlin do you think you're doing?" Wood cried.

Harry merely smirked. "Told you my ride was outside." But as Harry and noble steed lighted into the air, the shrill whistle of Madam Hooch sounded.

"Potter, Wood, on me!" she shouted. Harry nudged Gordon with his knee and the noble Hippogriff wheeled around in a second and began attempting to hover in place. Not an easy thing to do, he informed Harry.

"It'll be over in a minute," Harry reassured his friend.

"Potter, what's the meaning of this?" Madam Hooch demanded. "We play Quidditch on brooms, here at Hogwarts. Wood, I'm going to have to disqualify your Seeker if you don't have a very good explanation for this."

"Madam Hooch, I checked the rules," Harry began. "And international Quidditch rules, which is what we conform to here at Hogwarts, state that no mount may be used that has been magically modified outside what the original maker intended. I can assure you that Gordon is anything but modified, despite how magnificent he may seem. He conforms to all Quidditch rules and as a matter of fact, the Chudley Cannons' beaters in 1563 flew on Thestrals, setting a precedent for magical creatures being used in the game. While I grant it isn't common…" Harry trailed off, grateful that he'd memorized the speech Ron had given him the night before.

"Wood, did you know about this?" Madam Hooch demanded.

"No, Madam Hooch. I didn't," Wood responded, shooting Harry a glare that clearly read win or no, they would be having words after the game.

"Very well… as I don't think this was a deliberate attempt of deceit on behalf of the captain and it does seem that the rules allow it, I suppose I'm going to have to allow it, at least this once."

"Keahhhh!" Gordon cried, shocking both Wood and Madam Hooch so badly they nearly fell off their brooms.

"Let's go, Mate!" Harry yelled in response and in another moment, they were off again, boy and Hippogriff circling the pitch to a now curiously silent crowd. The mesmirization only lasted a few moments though, broken by the Slytherin jeers.

'They are most disrespectful, Sir Harry. Perhaps my brethren should teach them proper tournament etiquette?'

"Don't worry about it, Sir Gordon, I think they're mostly Americans."

'Oh, well that would explain it, then.' With that, Harry and Gordon circled silently.

"Incoming!" Harry yelled suddenly and the Hippogriff folded his wings and dropped like a stone, narrowly avoiding a Bludger.

'Bloody Hell! You didn't tell me this was a combat tournament. That changes things all together!' The Hippogriff's voice was bordering on ecstatic.

"It isn't exactly, but, I suppose as long as we don't make contact…"

'We'll make sure they need new undergarments!'

"Right, you fly, I'll look for the Snitch. When I tell you to leave off though, you have to do exactly what I say."

'Fair enough, now let's get ready to joust!'

"And Gryffindor has seized the Quaffle, Bell passes to Spinnet and back to Bell, now over to Johnston she shoots, she scores! Gryffindor leads 190 to 30! Ravenclaw back in possession of the Quaffle, moving in a classic Aldemeijer formation and there comes Harry the Hippogriff herder! Handling his mount with natural grace, that certainly disrupted their formation… AND Spinnet seizes the Quaffle again," boomed the magically amplified voice of Lee Jordan. Harry was having a terrible time finding the Snitch, but he and Gordon were more than making up for it by consistently disrupting Chaser formations and giving no end of grief to the Ravenclaw Beaters. Gordon, in particular, seemed to find the idea of participating in a combative tournament great fun.

Gryffindor had just scored another goal, when Harry saw the fluttering of gold wings. "Down and to the right, mate. I have to catch the little gold thing. Just go as hard and fast as you can and feel for my directions."

'Aye, Sir Harry!' And with that, Hippogriff and human went into a spectacular dive. A blur of motion to the left drew Harry's attention. The Ravenclaw Seeker had obviously spotted it too, and she was racing towards the golden ball with a burning ferocity.

"She won't beat us," Harry growled. It had taken him half a second to realize that the opposing Seeker was none other than the very same Miss Chang that Harry had proclaimed his undying yearning for earlier in the year and in retaliation she and many of her friends had adopted the sport of Harry hunting. Harry failed to find the amusement and as such made it a point of personal pride to beat her.

Cutting in on a diagonal course, Cho managed to snake in front of her rival for a few seconds, but a few seconds was all it took.

Harry was mesmerized. Arse… beautiful, round, perfect-for-bearing-kittens arse, was all that flashed through his dazed mind as he and Gordon trailed their opponent, all thoughts of revenge flying right out of his head. If he shifted his weight a little and sat up just enough, he could get a better view…

'Harry! What are you doing? The small flying egg is changing direction. You must catch it, mustn't you?'

"Follow that arse!" Harry yelled, and without thinking sat up even straighter. A second later and the Bludger would have sailed harmlessly over the messy head of hair, but it didn't. Though mercifully, Harry was pretty sure he was unconscious the moment it struck him so he was thus saved the headache of the moment and the uncomfortable, though relatively short, fall to the ground.

"Potter is out, and Chang catches the Snitch. The match goes to Gryffindor, Two hundred ten to one hundred eighty!" Lee Jordan called out, his voice in a state of confusion due to the conflicting feelings of winning the match but losing the Snitch. It just didn't happen very often.

oOo

When Harry finally awoke, he was once again in the Hospital wing, judging by the lack of décor, and his head was pounding. Actually it seemed easier to find the bits that weren't hurting and catalogue them as the rest seemed bent on total agony.

"Oh, sex me. Why do I always end up here?" Harry moaned.

"Maybe you won't when you learn to duck," came Fred's distinct voice.

Harry turned slowly and saw both Fred and George grinning at him. "Quite the scare you gave us, Harry. Half the tower wanted to show up, but Madam Pomfrey said she wouldn't clear you for visitors 'till you woke up."

"But you're here anyway?"

George grinned. "Well, us and that orange furball that's always hanging around." Looking to his right, Harry could see Crookshanks give a quick swish of his tail and twitch one ear in greeting. 'Yo,' was all he said.

"How did you get in?" Harry groggily mused.

"Please, Harry, do give us some credit. Until our ways were reformed, we were the Hogwarts reigning troublemakers. We can get in and out of most places in the castle quick as a wink."

"Oh, I see. Why are you here then?"

"Harry, we're here to check in on you. That and both our younger siblings threatened to hex us into oblivion if we didn't at least let them know how you were doing."

"Well, I hurt just about everywhere and it isn't a pleasant sensation, but I've been through worse. I'll survive."

"Harry, on a bit more serious note…" Fred began.

"Because you know Wood is going to ask, why did you miss the Snitch?"

"Well that bird got in front of me, didn't she?" Harry retorted.

"Harry, we all saw it. You sat up a little, you slowed yourself down. Why?"

"It wasn't to get a peak at her arse, was it?" George guffawed. Harry, remembering, finally, exactly why he'd sat up a little bit turned bright red and said nothing.

"It was?" Fred and George echoed together. "Blimey. You're a bit young for that, aren't you? At the very least I wouldn't tell Ginny that."

"Not like I want to go broadcasting it around," Harry mumbled. Feeling deeply ashamed of the fact that he'd allowed a good set of hips distract him from the hunt. He'd have to talk to Father about this when he returned home in the summer. Hopefully it didn't affect his hunting abilities any more than it had. If he'd been in the bush, Harry realized, he'd be dead now.

"Wouldn't tell Wood, either. The only thing Wood's got eyes for is a Quaffle or a new player."

"Only thing he's got wood for either," George snickered.

"George, mate, I told you that wasn't a challenge," Fred rebuked.

"What wasn't?" Harry asked.

"Oh, Katie Bell said she was reasonably sure that she'd heard every dirty pun involving Oliver's name and lover boy took it as a personal challenge."

"Oi! I don't say anything when you start making moon eyes at that Hufflepuff two years ahead of us do I?" George retorted. Both twins began glaring at each other intensely. Harry could feel a good sibling brawl coming on, and while those were always entertaining he couldn't join and his head hurt too much to properly enjoy it anyway.

"Hey, knock it off. You want to kill yourselves, go ahead, but wait until I'm out of here."

With angry looks at their other half, Fred and George got down to discussing more mundane topics of conversation, such as how spectacular Harry was during the game (apart from the unmentioned Snitch missing incident), or filling him in on what he'd missed while he was unconscious.

"And then, McLaggen took his shirt off and started asking for twenty pound notes stuffed into his pants!" Fred roared at the end of the story. Harry chuckled as loudly as he could without further aggravating his injuries.

"Where did you get the Firewhisky? I've never seen it at the parties before," Harry asked.

"Oh… here and there, Harry. Fancy a nip?" Fred murmured.

"No, not at the moment. I might have to take you up on it later."

"Well, be sure to bring your Galleons. We can get it, but it isn't always cheap. Unless you buy the cheap stuff, but I think the only thing that stuff is good for is raising baby dragons."

Harry jolted suddenly remembering the incident in his first year. "Where did you learn about baby dragons?"

"Hagrid mentioned something about it in Class the other week. He was thinking about having us do a project on raising them, but he said that might have to wait until our NEWT year."

Harry shuddered involuntarily. It was close. No one, apart from those that had been there, knew why Harry and his friends had been docked two hundred points two years ago, and in all honesty, he'd like to keep it that way.

"You alright, Harry?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, but I thought you were done with your prankster ways?" Harry asked.

"Oh, we are, but exceptions should be made from time to time. I mean if we spot a talking bottle of Firewhisky we'll know damn well not to talk back, but what is the point of having all this knowledge if you can't use it to get your fellow students pissed once in awhile, and let's face it, Harry, after the show you put on earlier we all needed something to take the edge off."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Well, we must be off, then, before Madam Pomfrey comes back from wherever she's off to. We'll see you when you're mobile, yeah?"

Harry grinned, "Yeah." It was nice to have friends who cared.

oOo

The next week passed relatively uneventfully, but Harry was managing to once again produce a corporeal Patronus more often than not, and with their disastrous discussion behind them, the atmosphere was no longer one of total distrust. The rest of his traditional classes were going well, too, but without History of Magic to skive, Harry found that his frolicking was severely reduced.

The upcoming weekend promised a great deal of frolicking and revelry, as it was a Hogsmeade weekend. Harry still wasn't allowed to go, but that didn't worry him. "Want to get out into Hogsmeade this weekend, Sparkplug?" Harry asked.

Ginny, who was revising her potions homework with a vengeance, stopped and stared at him. "Sure, if we can keep practicing hunting when we get back."

Harry shrugged, but the smile was plastered across his face. He had his friend back and they had been slowly working on the art of the stalk. Harry was amazed at how quickly his human picked up what he was trying to teach, but he supposed he really shouldn't be. She was his human after all.

Saturday arrived with an air of anticipation about it. It seemed everyone wanted to go see both Zonko's and the remains of the Shrieking Shack. Harry had no desire to see either, so he figured that he and Ginny could safely tour the village without undue interference. He'd even consulted the map and found another entrance to the village, through the cellar of Honeydukes.

"You all set, Sparkplug?"

"Let's go, Paws," Ginny grinned back. Both were bundled snugly, and headed for the portrait exit, when it swung open suddenly.

"Mr. Potter, please come with me," McGonagall ordered. Her tone brooked no argument. Harry and Ginny exchanged worried glances and once again Harry found himself being escorted by a teacher. This time, however it was to McGonagall's own office.

"Mr. Potter, while I'm aware of your ability to keep yourself and very likely Miss Weasley safe, Dumbledore asked that I keep an eye on you and not allow you to wander off during this festive expedition outside the castle walls."

"Oh, I see," was all Harry could think to say. Inside he was fuming. He was missing out on a chance to go frolic because some barmy old coot thought him incompetent.

"However, I did not bring you up here specifically to trap you in my office."

"Then why, Cousin?"

McGonagall chuckled ever so slightly, and Harry's jaw nearly hit the floor. His stern Transfiguration Professor had a sense of humour, who knew?

"Indeed, esteemed relative of mine, I asked you here on a very serious and… private matter. Can I trust that anything said inside these walls will in fact remain between family?"

Harry's mind was spinning with shock. Not only did his cousin finally establish that she had the capability of laughter, but she had finally acknowledged their tenuous familial relationship. "I suppose."

"Harry, did you mean what you said about working with Sirius Black?"

"Yes, Cousin, I did. I don't think he betrayed Lily-mum and James-dad. I really don't think he wants to kill me, and I'm positive he isn't working for that body-possessing, unicorn-killing, prat of dark nobility."

"What makes you so sure?" McGonagall pressed.

"Cousin, he could have killed me so many times I can't count them on all my toes and whiskers, and he did help fix Angelina. He really only wants justice."

"Who's Angelina?"

"The sentient car that lives in the forest."

"Oh," McGonagall replied. "But, Harry, if he wants justice why doesn't he turn himself in? Allow the whole thing to go to trial."

Harry shook his head slowly. "I didn't say he wanted to be set free, I said he wanted justice. He wants to be guilty of the murder they convicted him for and I aim to see that it happens."

"Harry," McGonagall snapped. "You can't go around wantonly killing! If you don't consider the consequences of you actions legally, then at least think of the state of your soul. Do you want it to be tainted with murder?"

"It's part of the hunt, Cousin. I would have thought you'd realised that by now. I doubt the liquidation of one rat will cause undue strain on my soul as it is. Besides that, all Kneazles go to heaven."

"I thought the saying was all dogs?"

"Ugh…" Harry grimaced. "Can you imagine the smell? No, dogs are the personal minions of Sirius and Anubis."

"Harry, I need you to assure me that you're not going to go hunting Lestrange and his friend, please," McGonagall's tone softened slightly with her request.

Harry batted a hand dismissively. "No need to worry, Professor. After the last fiasco, I'm going to let them come to me. Then I can kill them with the help of all my friends!"

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" McGonagall muttered.

"No, but it is the truth."

"I suppose. Well, you better be off. I'm asking, one feline to another, please stay out of Hogsmeade today."

Harry thought briefly for a moment and then nodded. He really couldn't deny his teacher anything when she used the familial connection. Of course that street went two ways…

"Well then, I'm off, Professor. Is there anything else you'll be needing?"

"No, Mr. Potter, I don't believe there is," McGonagall said, reverting back into official teacher mode.

Just as Harry reached the door, he grinned cheekily at his head of house. "Anything you say McGiggles." And with that, he ran like his life depended on it.

Finally arriving just outside Hagrid's Hut, where he and Ginny had agreed to meet, should anything go wrong, he heard the sound of laughter emanating from the humble abode.

Pushing the door open slightly, he slunk in but was noticed a moment later by both Hagrid and Ginny. "'Arry, yer 'ere! I was jus' tellin' Ginny some stories about her brother, Charlie. Brilliant chap, he was. Such a way wit' the beasts. Not like, you 'o course, but he had a way about 'im."

Harry smiled a little at the obvious praise. "Sounds good, Hagrid. McGonagall finished up with me; did you still want to go practice a little, Sparkplug?"

Ginny's eyes lit up as she hopped off the stool she was sitting on and leapt to the floor. "I'm in. You don't mind do you, Hagrid?"

Hagrid merely chuckled. "I don' mind at all. Jus' don't be gettin' into any trouble now. I reckon you've had a life's worth already, 'Arry."

"Come on, Paws!" Ginny squealed, once again ecstatic at the possibility of learning the secret art of 'the stalk' as Harry had begun calling it. He merely smiled and headed out after her. It was good to have his human back.

"Young love," Hagrid chuckled softly, a minute later. It seemed only yesterday that Ginny's own parents were chasing after each other and being caught in compromising positions after curfew. He knew they were a bit young for that, but it was nice to see two youngsters so obviously taken with one another, even if they didn't realize it yet.

_AN: Well that's 37, folks. Hope you enjoyed it and I must say, we're approaching the end of the year rather rapidly (I know it doesn't seem it, but there really isn't much left to cover). How did you like Harry and McGonagall's heart to heart? He really is bringing out the cat in her, isn't he? Anyway, hope to have this wrapped up no later than Ch. 45 and then a well earned break for this Kneazle! Growing Up Kneazle will be followed by a sequel. Years four and five. As always, reviews are loved, suggestions appreciated and constructive criticism taken into consideration. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time and effort to read this fiction of mine. Finally, I am also pleased to introduce a new member to TEAM UPDATE! Forget-me-knot with the power to unravel even the most insidious plot holes, she valiantly works TEAM UPDATE's coffee pot, and keeps the team MINIVAN in working order. Seriously, a huge shout out to Forget-me-knot for being such a great sounding board. No, folks that isn't her real name, but what are alias' for if not keeping your identity a secret?_


	38. The Waiting Game

Ch38 The Waiting Game

"Good, Sparkplug, now do it again."

"Harry, we've been out here all day. It's Saturday, shouldn't we be skiving off work or visiting Hagrid?" Ginny huffed. Her muscles ached and despite the intense training she had been going through, it never seemed to get any easier.

"Ginny, do you want to learn to hunt or not? You've started well behind any other Kneazle out here. We learn this as kittens, but you have years to learn and we've only until the end of term for you to learn everything."

"Why? Are you going somewhere this summer?"

"No, but I want you prepared. Remember, that rat and his man-friend know where you live and they may have pieced together where I am, too. I won't have you unprepared. Now, let's do it again."

Ginny nodded and changed back into the most beautiful lioness Harry had ever seen. Not that he'd seen many lionesses, but he was sure if he had, she'd still be the most beautiful. The way her shoulders moved, and muscles rippled gently under her coat of red fur. It almost made him want to kill a mouse for her and meow to the world…

Harry shook his head violently to clear his odd daydreams. Ginny wasn't a lioness in the same way that he wasn't a human. How could he even imagine doing those things with her? Besides, she'd made it perfectly clear that freshly killed mice weren't appreciated. However, he did have to marvel at the rapid skill which she was showing. Several of the other Kneazles had come out to help from time to time as well, but the natural affinity his human showed for Kneazle-only skills, left him in awe. She still had some time to go, but he was sure she could take care of her own by the rapidly approaching end of the year.

"Good, I like it. Now, as you have so rightly pointed out, it is getting a bit late and we are near enough to Hagrid's. Would be a shame not to pop in, wouldn't it?"

Ginny nodded vigorously, happy to be finally finished with the day's training. They walked leisurely towards the large hut on the edge of the forest in a companionable silence, until Harry finally broke it.

"Have you noticed anything strange with Hermione recently?"

"A little," Ginny admitted. "I mean we aren't the closest friends, but she's definitely upset about something. Merlin, have you seen how much homework she has?"

"You know, what I can't figure out is how she can be in so many places at once," Harry mused aloud.

"What do you mean?" Ginny replied, confused.

"Well, when I dropped Divination, I switched to Muggle Studies which was overlapped for half an hour. I figured Hermione just skived off a bit of one to go to the other, but since I switched, she hasn't missed one bit and Ron tells me that she's in every Divination class too."

"Harry, that's impossible. I bet you just miss her leaving or something."

Harry gave his best friend a very sceptical glare. "You really think that's likely?"

"Well… no, but it could happen!" Ginny protested weakly.

"Likely mirrors."

"What?"

"Mirrors, it's how we Kneazles can appear to get into high places sometimes without having to jump. Saves a lot of time."

"And how, precisely, do you manage to place mirrors about a house without anyone noticing?"

Harry smiled and winked. "Magic," he whispered theatrically, and then knocked loudly on the large door of Hagrid's hut to forestall any further conversation.

"I'm round back!" Hagrid's voice boomed and both youngsters followed it around to the pumpkin patch.

"Hagrid, what are you doing?" Harry shouted, panic beginning to rise in his chest. The sight of the three Hippogriffs he'd come to think of as friends knocked any thoughts of a genial visit from his mind.

"They got to go back 'Arry. I can't use 'em no more, an' Professor Dumbledore said they are distractin' yeh from yer work. 'Sides, I never really got around to teachin' anyone much about 'em. So, I'll send them back teh the Holyhead Reservation in Wales. With spring righ' around the corner, I thought it migh' be good teh get back fer breedin season."

"It was a pleasure knowing you," Harry said as he bowed formally, his head nearly meeting his knees. "May your quest for a fair maiden be a fruitful one and may your hatchlings bring glory and honour to your name."

'Thank you, Sir Harry. May your kittens be born with red fur,' Gordon squawked. The not-so-subtle implication caused Harry to sputter and blush furiously.

"What did he say, Paws?" Ginny whispered. Harry merely shook his head, mutely.

"Now, wha' can I help yeh with?" Hagrid asked, a moment later, having just finished securing the last chain on Buckbeak.

"Nothing much, Hagrid, just came down to visit."

"Brilliant! I'll jus' fetch a cuppa then."

Harry and Ginny followed the Groundskeeper into his hut.

oOo

"Bloody hell, Harry. That girl is mental, you know that, right?" Ron asked, staring at Hermione's retreating back.

Harry, having only arrived as the girl in question was storming away, was not able to pass judgment on the veracity of his friend's statement, but settled for nodding his head in a vague sort of way that might indicate either agreement or gas.

"I mean, all I did was ask her for a little bit of help on Transfiguration and she exploded. I've never seen her react so violently before."

"And by little bit of help, you asked to copy her essay that we were supposed to write for this afternoon?"

"Not initially," Ron grumbled. "I only did that once she said she didn't have the time to help me properly," Ron defended.

"You know we have to find out what's wrong with her, don't you?"

"Apart from being bleeding mental?"

"Yes, Ron, apart from that. I've seen the work load she has from lessons and I might be mental too if I was trying all that."

"I suppose that dotty old bat in Divination isn't helping either," Ron groused.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we started palm reading the other day and every time we start something new, she predicts a horrible end for someone in the class. The past couple times, though, it's been you."

"Oh? Do tell," Harry motioned for Ron to continue.

"Well the first time, it was a little unnerving, I guess. She kept predicting you were going to get killed by a savage beast with three heads. After that though, I guess she figured she had a gold mine because it's been a different one with you each time."

"How many, exactly?"

"Thirteen now, I think. You're supposed to be trampled by Hippogriffs, beheaded by a large troll, fall out of the sky, and snuff it when you encounter a bad laxative potion. I gave her the idea for the last one," Ron said, with a little pride creeping into his voice.

Harry merely chuckled. "So Hermione got upset about that one?"

"No, it was after the loony bint made some prediction about one of our number leaving us forever come Easter. It's almost Easter and today she made a sad prediction, thinly veiled of course, about your tragic death at the hands of a werewolf. Hermione snapped. I don't know why. We all know the tart's predictions are a load of dung. Not like there's even a werewolf around Hogwarts for you to snuff it with."

"I suppose. This behaviour isn't like our Hermione, though. We need to investigate."

"I guess," Ron shrugged. "You know, the twins' birthday is tomorrow."

"Is it?"

"Yup, they always pull some kind of prank. I wonder what they'll do this year?"

"I dunno, Ron. I guess we'll have to wait and see."

As it turned out, the waiting was for nought as nary a prank was to be had all through April first, at least none by the infamous Weasley twins. Harry was only able to ponder the abnormality fleetingly, as his attention was taken up by three women.

Ginny was gobbling up his free time, asking for help with hunting practice any chance she had, and Hermione's ongoing feud with the Divination Professor finally came to a head blowing out any time he might have had otherwise. In addition the strain of the extra homework was rattling everyone and raising tensions to the breaking point.

"Harry, how do you finish your Transfiguration homework so quickly?" Hermione huffed.

"Same way you finish your Divination revision," Harry replied lazily.

"I don't have any to do! I dropped that wretched class two days ago," Hermione nearly growled.

Harry smirked. "Well, I don't do my Transfiguration work, so all in all it's a fair trade."

"You don't do it?" Hermione screeched. "How on earth are you able to get such good marks?"

Harry rolled onto his back, tossing a small ball of yarn between his hands with grace. "I don't. I do alright in class, but that just comes to me. I don't understand all the theory and I don't see a need for it. If I can change a button into a toilet and back then why do I need to know why it works? I figured it up and if I get all good marks in class I can skive off practically all my essays and I still pass. That's all I'm really going for."

"But what about your future?" Hermione sputtered.

"You know he's going to be a stripper, Hermione. I don't think much besides a few glamour charms are going to help him there. Maybe a compulsion charm or two" Ron called out from his place in the chair Crookshanks had defiled with his molly. Harry hadn't told anyone except Ginny about it, but she'd been sufficiently disgusted that she'd gladly abandoned her traditional spot to her older brother.

"No compulsion charms needed, Ron. The women… they love me body," Harry shot back with a thick Scottish brogue.

"Careful with that accent, Harry, or you'll have McGonagall after you. Whether to stuff sickles into your pants or shake her arse in a see through kilt next to you, I don't know."

"Ron! I can't believe… Boys!" Hermione snapped as she slammed her book shut and gathered up her piles of parchment that lay strewn about.

As soon as she was gone, Ron looked over at his friend. "Mental, that one. You really don't do the assignments from McGonagall?"

"She and I have an understanding," Harry shrugged.

"Wish I had that understanding," Ron muttered.

"No, it mostly involves me being willing to jump out of impossibly tall windows if she looks about ready to hex me. She hasn't tried yet, but I think she's getting sneakier. For the record, Ron, McGonagall in a see through kilt is not an image I ever needed. She's practically family."

Ron shrugged. "I bet Neville enjoyed it."

"What?" The other boy sputtered, realising he was suddenly part of a conversation he was happily ignoring only moments before.

"See, Harry. He'd love it!"

oOo

"Potter!" The loud voice of Deputy Headmistress McGonagall rang through the grounds of Hogwarts early that morning, and with it a feeling of impending doom. Harry's fur bristled involuntarily. He motioned with his paw for Ginny to stay low and out of sight, a feat he no longer had to worry about her performing despite her size.

'I'll see what cousin McGiggles wants,' Harry mewed softly, and without another moment's hesitation sprang back onto two legs and sauntered through the forest.

"Something I can help you with, Cousin?"

"Mr. Potter, I have been searching for you for quite some time. Would you care to tell me where exactly you have been?"

"No, not particularly," Harry replied, edgily. He snuck a glance back at the tree line and breathed a deep sigh of relief. He couldn't spot Ginny anywhere.

A small growl resonated from the stern Transfiguration professor, startling her wayward student.

"It's Saturday, Professor. I don't have lessons or Quidditch. What is the problem?"

"Come with me, Potter." Without a backward glance, McGonagall strode off towards the castle and after casting another brief glance towards the forest, Harry followed her at a brisk pace. Finally coming to rest in a freshly conjured chair in the witch's office, Harry began to get a little edgy. He noticed that fresh glass adorned the small windows of the office, and while that wouldn't necessarily stop him from utilizing that as an exit, it would be significantly more painful than an open window. Perhaps a thorough hexing was coming? Like a true predator, his professor had trapped him in a situation that wouldn't give an easy escape route. He had to hand it to the old molly, she was craftier than he'd anticipated.

"Mr. Potter, would you care to guess why I've called you here?"

"Your kilts have suddenly become opaque?"

McGonagall gave him an indecipherable look which seemed to bore into his very soul. "No, not it? Then I've no idea," Harry continued, breezily. He wouldn't let the old molly throw him off balance. Let her explain why she wanted him here. He would be cautiously shifting his weight in preparation for dodging the anticipated curse.

"Mr. Potter, I have been looking at your classmates' essays, and I have noticed something distinctly missing from yours."

"Oh?" Harry cocked one eyebrow up.

"Words, Mr. Potter, perhaps parchment as well. I think it must be extremely difficult to turn anything in, when you don't do them," McGonagall finished so quietly Harry almost didn't hear her. That was testament enough to know that he was in serious trouble. He'd never heard his teacher speak like that before. "Now," she continued more forcefully, "would you care to tell my why you have turned so much as a base excuse into me since Christmas?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally, "I've been busy, Professor."

"What could you possibly be so important that you'd be willing to jeopardize your education?"

Harry shrugged again. "Well, I was trying to kill some people for a bit, and now I've found much more engaging pursuits. I'm training a partner-in-crime," Harry smiled wickedly.

McGonagall's legendary self-control, finally snapped. "Harry, I don't believe this! You're putting not only your education at risk, but your future as well. Transfiguration is one of the most important subjects in today's modern magical world, and you've barely done a thing! I have spoken to your other professors as well and they report similar, albeit slightly better, performance in their classes."

"Even, Professor Sprout?" Harry blurted, the hurt evident in his eyes.

"Well… no, not her, nor Hagrid, but you'll need more than decent Herbology and Magical Creatures marks if you expect to make anything of yourself."

Harry sighed loudly and decided to try the direct explanation approach. "Professor, may I ask you something? Am I, in fact, in danger of failing any of these classes with the possible exception of Potions?"

McGonagall's face scrunched a little. "No, Mr. Potter, I don't believe you are at this point."

"Now, while my marks in homework have been non-existent in your class, how has my in class performance been?" Harry continued, not giving his teacher a chance to respond. "They've been exemplary, I have received nothing less than an Exceeds Expectations in any practical assignment. I'm sorry, Professor, but I don't think I have the head for the book work you assign and it really cuts into naps and hunting."

"Mr. Potter, I find both your arrogance in this matter and the idea that you need to hunt despite the feast put on every night as positively atrocious."

"It isn't arrogance if it's true, Professor. I'm not saying I'm the best. I'll readily admit, Hermione has a far better grasp of theoretical understanding than I could ever hope to. So I have decided that rather than trying to force something that won't come, I would rather coax that which responds readily." At his teacher's continued glare, Harry continued. "Let me put it to you this way. Would it be better for me to focus on my strengths or my weaknesses?"

"Mr. Potter, may I pose a question?"

"Of course," Harry replied.

"If you were rubbish at silent movement, would your ability to pounce better than any of your littermates do you a bit of good in catching dinner?"

"I don't suppose so. If that were the case, then the prey would be miles away by the time I got close enough to catch it."

McGonagall's smile was positively feral. "Do you understand my point, Mr. Potter?"

"I suppose…" Harry mumbled. He really didn't like where she was going, and worse, it made perfect sense.

"One may not simply ignore something because it is difficult. I have no doubt that you are an exceptional hunter, if Miss Granger's cat is to be believed, but you didn't arrive at that by pure luck. I am quite sure that it took years of training and practice to allow you to catch your prey with such efficiency, and magic is no different. I don't assign homework simply for the joy of watching my students suffer. There is more to magic than wand waving and incantations, just as there is more to hunting that pouncing and swiping a paw. If you want to become the best wizard you can be you must be prepared to work at it in the same manner that you worked so hard to be the fine specimen of Kneazle that you are." After a moment, she continued. "This may be partially my fault. As your head of house it is my duty to make sure that all my students have the tools to succeed here. I've never taught someone like you before, but you've never had to learn like this before, so we're both new to this. However, after giving it some consideration, I have come to the conclusion that there is only one suitable solution."

"What's that, Cousin?"

"You will arrange for tutoring."

"I'm sorry?" Harry looked up, startled.

"You certainly might be, Mr. Potter. If you are to realize your full potential, I believe it would be best if you had a little help. I am willing to give you a little of my time to ensure your natural affinity for Transfiguration is not squandered. As for the remaining of your trouble subjects, I believe you must approach your professors independently. Your interest must be genuine, Mr. Potter, if not then I will not ask my colleagues to waste their time with a shiftless layabout."

"I'm appreciative Professor, but really it just comes down to Charms and Potions, doesn't it?"

"Your Astronomy marks leave much to be desired, and Professor Binns doesn't even remember having you in class. Your Ancient Runes could stand some improvement as well. These all must be corrected. If you do not ask for help in all of them, then I can't guarantee any of us will be so obliging as to help you independently."

"I see…" Harry trailed off. The next moment Harry's glum attitude at being forcibly driven to excel in bookwork was transformed into spontaneous action by movement entering the open window. Harry dove over the desk and tackled his pseudo-relative to the floor. The arrow missed her head by inches.

"Mr. Potter…" McGonagall's protests were quickly silenced when Harry pointed towards the projectile firmly embedded into the wall of her office. A note was attached.

Scrambling to his feet, Harry quickly removed the parchment and opened it. The contents nearly made him pass out.

'Potter, we have her. A little young for Animagus magic, but she'll feel the Cruciatus just fine. She'll know pain like she's never known before if you don't arrive. Tonight, just after Sunset in the dead clearing in the Forbidden Forest, you know the place. If you want her in one piece no teachers and none of your furry friends. Make the wrong move and she dies.'

A moment later, the sound of wood hitting the castle floor resonated throughout the quiet office. Bending down slowly, Harry picked up a wand that was only slightly less familiar to him than his own.

"What is it, Mr. Potter?"

"Ginny's wand," Harry choked out. "They have her, Professor."

"What do you mean?" McGonagall demanded.

"They have her. I have to go, but I promise that if I get back with all my whiskers and toes I'll ask every bloody teacher in this school for help." With that final pronouncement, Harry yanked the door open and bolted from the room.

"Harry, wait!" McGonagall cried, but to no avail.

His mind was made up, and already it was alive with tactical possibilities. He knew Ginny no longer had her wand, but she might still be able to transform. If she wasn't Stunned, or dead already... Harry shook his head violently. He had to believe she was alive, she was his human, after all, and one doesn't abandon one's staff to psychopathic maniacs, it is simply bad form.

He was going to need help, that was for sure, but they knew to be wary of Kneazles and he couldn't ask the Unicorns for help with the rescue, even if he knew where they were. The teachers were no good, and Harry was certain Pettigrew knew what Mr. Black looked like on two legs and four. No, what he needed were some people that wouldn't be suspected. A plan was beginning to form in his mind.

Arriving into the Gryffindor common room, Harry surveyed his surroundings and found his solution. "Neville, I need your help," Harry burst out. Both Neville and Seamus looked up rather quizzically from their game of exploding snap.

"What can I do?" the slightly podgy boy replied.

"I need you to get Ron, and Hermione and meet me down by Hagrids hut in thirty minutes. Tell Ron we need the cloak." Neville looked a little perplexed at his friend.

"What's going on?"

"You're going to get your revenge," Harry replied.

Without another word, Neville stood and strode towards the stairs leading to the boy's dormitory. Harry hated having to involve any of his friends in this, but none of them would be content to just sit back and let him face this alone. Not to mention what Ron would do if anything happened to Ginny. Harry sent a silent prayer to his lady Isis. 'Let us find and kill these rat-bastards.' Satisfied with his plea, Harry bolted from the room, transformed and pelted towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Once outside the castle, he realized the crucial flaw in his plan, how would he find the Unicorns? He knew they weren't much good in a fight, but they always seemed to know things they ought not be able to. If there was anyone who would know where they were keeping Ginny, the Unicorns would be the ones.

Standing at the edge of the tree line were two bright white Unicorns pawing the ground impatiently. As he skidded to a halt in front of them, the first let out a loud snort.

'Took you bloody well long enough to get here.'

Harry rocked back a bit on his paws, thoroughly in shock. It seemed not all Unicorns were articulate and well-mannered.

'Hush,' the second one scolded.

'Why are you here?' Harry finally asked. He knew why he needed them, but he didn't know why they'd need him.

'Mum thought you might be looking for your filly, what with her being bloody well captured and all.'

'How did you know?' Harry sputtered. Their conversation seemed almost surreal.

'Bloody hell. You are going to go rescuing her, aren't you? We all heard how you charged in and ripped a man's throat out when one of us got cut up. Can't imagine what you'll do to the poor bastards when you get her back. I'd gore them a bit, but Mum says we're not supposed to go doing that. Sullies the innocent reputation we have.'

'Right, yes, I mean I'll definitely kill them, and thank you for the generous offer. Where is she again?'

'Bloody articulate, this one,' the first Unicorn snorted, shaking his head in a dismissive manner.

'Ned, be nice,' the second admonished. 'She's being held behind the dead clearing to the west. There is a little clump of bushes that one of the bad men used magic on to transform it into a little shelter. Honestly, no appreciation for the natural order those two. They're definitely scoundrels by the smell of them.'

'She's alive then?' Harry asked frantically.

'Oh, yes, she's alive. Heard one of the bloody bastards tell the other that they won't finish with her till they finish with you, and we can't let them have that.'

'Honestly, Ned, your language!'

'Poly, if someone doesn't get that stick out from… Oh, bugger off, never mind. I hope that helped. There are two of them, remember that!'

'Why are you doing this?' Harry asked. Ned, whinnied a loud reply.

'She's a friend of yours, i'nnt she? And anyway, we hate to see a pretty young virgin girl get treated that way. Might be a bit less sympathetic, if she were slagging it all over the woods, but she's loyal to you, that's for sure. Got a mouth on that filly to shoe! Gotta help a feisty filly like that.'

Polly rolled her eyes dismissively. 'I'm sorry about Ned, he's the green one of the band.'

'Green one?' Harry asked. He'd never heard that before.

'Yes. Once in a great while, a Unicorn is born green instead of gold. They never do change the colouring either. Other animals have the same peculiarity: black for sheep, purple for wombats, you get the idea.'

'I guess I do,' Harry replied, not at all sure he did.

'I suppose I better get going, you have a filly to rescue, don't you?' With that final goodbye Polly whirled and took off into the forest, leaving Harry to contemplate the fine points of his plan while waiting for his companions to arrive. He sent another prayer that they would all survive, preferably with all their toes and whiskers intact.

oOo

"You want us to do what, Harry?" Hermione whispered rather dramatically.

"I need you and Ron to be the diversion. There are going to be two of them and I'll need someone to distract them for enough time for me to get in close."

"How do you propose we do that? Walk in with signs that read 'Ickle firsties ready for the cursing?'" Ron drawled out.

"If that's what it takes, but I would suggest a good old-fashioned snog."

Both Ron and Hermione turned beet red. "How in the name of Merlin's arse cheeks is that supposed to help?" Ron bellowed.

"Really, Ron, do you want the whole forest to hear us?" Harry replied calmly. "And to answer your question, I don't mean a little peck on the lips, but a full blown 'about to shag your brains out' snog. You and Hermione would burst in the clearing, your hands roaming all over each other. This little bit is important because not only will the movement distract the eye of the opponent, it will also allow you to get your wands out without being so obvious about it. Remember, I've arrived a moment or two before, just enough to assure these dog-rotters that I'm alone. Then you two pop in, checking the other thoroughly for any swelling in one another's throat and making comments about how you don't think the teachers will find you here. As soon as they turn to you, Neville will shoot a spell from behind them, from underneath the Invisibility Cloak. Then, I charge in, gut them both, save Ginny and bippty boppity boop we're back to the castle. No one's the wiser and everyone's a little more relaxed." Harry finished his soliloquy with a grand flourish of his hand and a massive grin.

"And you think this will work, do you?" Ron asked sceptically.

"Do you have a better plan?"

"Well, it's just why can't I be the one under the cloak?"

"Fine by me," Neville chimed in. "I'll snog Hermione and you can hide. I prefer more action anyway."

Ron glared at both of the other boys for a moment before slapping Neville on the side of the head.

"Oi! What was that for?" Neville demanded.

"You're under the cloak, I'll snog Hermione and save my sister, too!"

"Wait a minute!" Hermione screeched.

"A girl's first kiss is supposed to be special! Don't I get a say in any of this?"

"Do you want to save Ginny?" Harry calmly asked.

"Of course."

"Then you have to understand, this is the only way. Everyone has to make sacrifices for the good of the Pride. I'm sorry, Hermione, but this includes you too."

"But… I'm not like that!"

"Don't worry, Hermione, I'm sure Ron won't think any less of you for being a bad kisser," Neville commented.

"I'm not a bad kisser!"

"Then prove it," Ron smirked.

"Harry, is this the only way to save Ginny? I'm sure I could come up with one, if I had a little time. I mean even just a couple minor changes…"

"Hermione, we don't have the time. Please, I need your help with this and this is the only way I can be sure it will work. I swear we won't tell a soul how you helped. Please?" Harry put on his best 'lost and scared kitten' expression and for a moment Hermione seemed indecisive before finally blowing out a loud breath.

"Fine, but this does not mean I fancy you, Ron!"

"Of course not, no one is going to be interested in me snogging the biggest know-it-all in the castle anyway. They'd only ask if you tasted like book paste."

"I do not taste like book paste!"

"Couldn't say for sure, could I? Never tried it on with you," Ron shot back. Hermione glared fiercely at her ginger friend before launching herself at his mouth.

Harry and Neville stood stock still with identical expressions of shock on their faces. "Doesn't look like either knows what they're doing, does it?" Neville whispered.

"No, but they'll do," Harry whispered back. "Harum," Harry cleared his throat. This had the unique effect of causing the angrily kissing duo to break apart suddenly, both with rapidly rising shades of red.

"Can we get on with this then?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded mutely, while Hermione stood. Grabbing the lanky boy's hand she drug him to his feet and strode resolutely into the forest, leaving Neville and Harry behind.

"Do you think they really fancy each other?" Neville asked.

"Nah," Harry replied. "He's never even tried to give her a mouse."

_AN: Thank you to everyone so much for your patience. I've been working and thus unable to complete this chapter. Never fear, I shall endeavour to persevere and write the next one faster. For anyone who thinks that Ron and Neville might be acting a bit out of character, I will admit that they are not portrayed quite the way Rowling did, but I am drawing of the unique experience of having once been a 13 year old boy and attempting to interject more realism into their dialogue and interaction. Especially Ron, he grew up with 5 older brothers, the boy would quite likely be incredibly dirty minded. In addition, his complex has been somewhat abated at this point due to other events in the story. I hope this scratches the itch. Almost done, I think. Remember, To these things you must return. Thanks for reading –Manatoc Fox_


	39. All My Plans Torn Asunder

Ch 39: All My Plans Torn Asunder

Harry strode boldly and purposefully through the forest, an odd sensation when so much of his life was based on secret movement. He knew that it didn't matter if he was heard; in fact it might be all the better to disguise his friends' advances. The solid weight of the knife Sebastian had given him, resting securely on his hip gave the two-legged Kneazle courage to continue and the feel of his wand gave him the confidence that they would save his human.

Soon the pungent odour of motor oil and composting leaves reached his less-than-sensitive human nose. "I must be close," Harry muttered to himself, and true to his prediction a moment later he broke the dense underbrush and walked blatantly into the dead clearing of the forest.

Tire ruts still marred the soft ground from where Angelina had become stuck during the winter to spring thaw. There were no nocturnal sounds to be heard and the diurnal wildlife, which should have been singing their long goodbyes to the sun, were equally silent. Standing front and center stood Rodolphus Lestrange. His long dark brown hair was a matted nest and his crooked and nearly toothless smile would have looked more at home on a hyena than a man. Behind him, a small fire burned low, throwing the clearing into long shadows and a low orange glow.

"Where is she, old man?" Harry demanded.

"Ah, ah, ah. Where are you manners Mr. Potter? Of course, being raised by that mudblood-loving fool, Dumbledore, wouldn't help you any? First, introductions. You are Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and I, Mr. Potter, am your death."

Harry bared his teeth and raised his wand, but Rodolphus was faster. "Move another muscle, Potter, and I kill your little woman right where she is." As if to prove his point, Lestrange delivered a vicious kick to a small bundle that Harry hadn't noticed before. Harry could hear a small whimper from inside the sack. "That's right, m'boy. Your little lioness is right here. Now, throw me the wand."

Glaring balefully at Ginny's captor, Harry reluctantly threw his wand to the older man's feet, offering up a small prayer that his friends would arrive soon. "Fine, you have me. Now let her go."

Lestrange merely chuckled. It was a sick, sadistic laugh that made even Harry's blood go cold. "You didn't think it would be that easy did you? I know you have something planned, and besides, she's so young. I can have a lot of fun with her. Did you know that for the Cruciatus Curse to really work, you have to mean it from your very soul? And I mean it Potter, from the very darkest pits of my heart. You took away everything I had, and now I get a little something back. Hours, days, weeks… years. Who knows how long I can keep this little kitten alive? I'll have my fun with her, Potter. Then maybe, just maybe, I'll give her back to her dearest Mummy and Daddy, She may not even know her own name, or care that her parents are the biggest blood-traitors south of Wales. Or maybe I'll just keep her all to myself. Oh yes, Potter, I'll have my fun with her."

"I'm going to kill you," Harry ground out.

"Oh will you now? Unfortunately, it seems like you have a dilemma." Rodolphus snapped his fingers and a moment later Pettigrew appeared, dragging a bloody and bruised Neville Longbottom. "You, know, Longbottom. The unfortunate thing about invisibility cloaks is that they do nothing to muffle sound. You would do well to remember that. Not that it's going to matter." Lestrange leisurely walked over towards Neville, all the while pointing his wand at the immobile lump of Ginny. "I'm going to make Potter choose, which of his friends do I kill and which do I… savour? I was all set for you, you know. Your mum and dad had such delicious screams. She begged of course, and he cried when he saw what we did to her. Do you want to know what we did to your mum? I can show you. I think I will when Potter throws you out. Do you really think he'll choose you over his girlfriend over there? Either way I win. I get to complete the Longbottom set and at the same time watch pretty wee Potter angst himself as I tear everything he cares about away from him, bit by bit. You're lucky, you know. Oh, what I have in mind for her…" Neville's eyes were wide with horror at the man standing in front of him. Fear was plainly coursing through his veins and Lestrange was loving every second.

Harry's mind was equally terrified. He'd never felt so helpless before. Ron and Hermione had not shown up, Harry's only backup was captured and he knew right then and there unless something miraculous happened, they were all going to die. Then very suddenly, a small voice that sounded suspiciously like cousin McGonagall popped into his head. 'Don't give the prick the satisfaction', it said, and at that very moment it seemed like a very good idea.

"Excuse me, Mr. Strange, but have you ever heard of dental hygiene?"

"What?" Rodolphus roared.

"Your teeth are all yellow-ie and decayed. I don't imagine in a place guarded by large Dobermans they would give you much in the way of cosmetic bleaching, but I would think one might brush once in awhile. They'd be much less likely to fall out. The mollies do appreciate a tom with a good smile."

"Think this is funny, do you, Potter? This whole thing one big joke? I'll tell you what the joke is. The joke will be when I take your little girlfriend apart piece by piece. The last woman I had it took me four days to kill. I'm sure I can beat the record. She seems resilient."

"And how does this help with your mouth condition? If you spent less time torturing young women and more time brushing, you might have a few kittens of your own running around, not that we'd want that. So, on the other hand, I suppose it might be better if you just kept on doing what you're doing, because I don't think I'd want you to reproduce. Not that any woman would have you. Certainly not with the way your arm is."

Lestrange let out an incoherent bellow of rage at being abruptly reminded of the recent injury and pointed his wand abruptly at Harry.

"Oh, Ron, do try to keep your hands to yourself! Imagine if McGonagall caught us now." The abnormally high pitched voice of Hermione came exploding through the tree line as Ron and Hermione moved in a very similar motion to a pair of eels mating. Ron's hands moved so quickly up and down the backside of her jumper Harry was surprised they didn't catch on fire. Hermione, for her part was making rather obscene giggling noises and biting rather aggressively on Ron's neck. For a moment, the whole clearing was in a trance as the apparently trysting teens paid them no mind and continued about with their apparent goal of a midnight forest shag.

"Can't help it Her-meow-meow, you're such a little sex kitten. I'm going to shag you… oh, erm, hello chaps," Ron said as he 'apparently' spotted their company. The teens hands being very much still in each other's robes.

"Now, now, what do we have here, Pettigrew? A couple of very naughty students, and so young too. I do like them fresh. What do you suppose we should do with them?" Rodolphus' distraction proved nearly fatal, and only a half startled cry from Pettigrew allowed Lestrange to escape death from the knife thrown by Harry.

"Yeaghhh!" Lestrange screamed. His movement to the right prevented the knife from lodging squarely in his chest, but instead it sliced nicely through the arm, leaving a large gash and causing the Death Eater to drop his wand. At this, several things happened.

Neville stomped hard on his captors hand and threw a strong elbow into the man's unprotected groin. Peter let out a loud 'ooff!' but relinquished his grip on his captive, and a moment later, drew his wand.

Despite the trauma, Rodolphus was only taken aback for a moment. He wasn't married to the Dark Lord's right hand woman for nothing. If a little pain and possible evisceration was an obstacle, he wouldn't have had sex nearly as frequently during his marriage as he did. After stooping to gather his wand, he took stock of the situation in a moment and began firing curses of his own. He cast the Killing Curse several times at the Potter brat, but the kid had good reflexes, and his aim was a little shaky, More curses followed, but a shield sprang up, deflecting them. It seemed the trysting couple was a plant. He should have seen that. After all, he and Bella had done that more than once before a murder spree.

However, when he looked at Pettigrew, all sense went out the window. The miserable rat man had lost the Longbottom boy. His whole reason for agreeing to this was to finally put an end to his work, to savour the last sweet taste of revenge against those who were instrumental in destroying his master.

If he couldn't have his prize, then neither would Potter. "_Diffindo!"_ he cried, shooting a cutting curse at the violently squirming incarcerated Weasley chit, but instead of striking her cleanly across the throat as he had meant to, it impacted with a hastily erected shield and then with the body of the lanky red-headed Romeo who had come into the clearing mere moments prior. In a sudden burst of clarity, he recognized the boy. It was the same miserable brat who'd defied him in their search of Gryffindor tower and largely thwarted his delicious torture of the upstart Mudblood.

"_Crucio!"_ Rodolphus cried, putting the full measure of his cruelty behind the spell.

For Ron, there was neither a defence, nor a conscious passage of time. All he knew was pain. He thought he'd been through the worst that year, but he didn't remember it being this bad the last time. The only thought he could muster at the moment was that he had to protect Ginny. When the Death Eater had fired a cutting curse, Ron had tried a shield spell, but that had failed and left him with what would become a rather dashing scar across his chest and a moment later the full pain of the Cruciatus Curse hit him. He was never afraid to admit he cried like a little girl who just saw Father Christmas brutally shot to death by the Easter Bunny, but to his friends' credit, no one ever said a word about it.

Meanwhile, Neville was having a few problems of his own. He'd failed to reach Harry's wand, not managed to help his friends, but he had been managed to be hit with incarcerating ropes from the short, fat man's wand, fallen to the floor and cut himself on what appeared to be a knife.

The knife being a small mercy, Neville rolled onto his back, concealing the blade and worked frantically at trying to sever the magical bonds. He only hoped the blade was up to the task.

Peter Pettigrew was having a bad day. He'd let his partner-in-crime play with the children instead of killing them quickly and scurrying off into the night like he'd suggested. He'd captured, lost and then recaptured the Longbottom boy and all he had to show for it was a bruised shin, a possibly broken rib and a now profound sense of irritation with life itself. He'd managed to conjure ropes to bind the escapee, but Rodolphus was very explicit, he wanted Longbottom alive and awake for the whole ordeal. Another nuisance if Peter was asked, but he wasn't and so his opinion of the situation went unspoken.

Bending down to hoist the captive to his feet, Pettigrew was caught off balance when he suddenly realised the boy's hand's were no longer bound. Longbottom had somehow gotten his hands on the blade that Potter had thrown away so carelessly a minute before and his would-be captive was now swinging it at his throat. 'That's not a wand!' Peter thought, before the blinding agony of Tiffany's finest silver blade cut his jugular as cleanly as any spell. "This isn't how it was supposed to be…" Peter choked out, before passing into unconsciousness. Neville stared down at the knife in his hands, the pool of blood beginning to soak his robes and without another thought fainted dead away.

Harry, too was having a bad day. He'd missed his morning nap, and certainly his evening nap, and this was hardly the type of frolicking in the woods he'd prefer, and to top it all off his Human had been kidnapped, his friends were in mortal peril and he was thoroughly unarmed. So, having nothing else to do, he charged a man with a wand, fully capable of casting any of the three Unforgivable Curses on a whim. In retrospect this was not his brightest idea, but being out of suitably good ideas, Harry settled for this one and found himself rather pleased that his small boyish frame manage to knock the larger adversary arse over tit. The realisation that this was a bad idea kicked in as soon as Harry found himself staring down the point of a very angry Death Eater's wand.

"You're in for it now, boy. You have spoiled my fun. I don't appreciate it when brats spoil my fun."

"Volderknob didn't appreciate it when I killed him either, and next to one seriously dark wizard, what are you?" Harry challenged. This too would go down in Hermione's big book of bad ideas Harry has come up with.

"Oh, I don't know, your Mummy was there to protect you then. She's not here, now, is she? Let's see how you deal with Dementors," Lestrange let out a barking laugh.

"What?" Harry looked back confused.

"Hehe, you can't feel them? Maybe my time in Azkaban has made me more sensitive, but the come quickly and they hunger. You'll be soulless by morning. I can satiate myself with that. Goodbye, Potter." With that Lestrange turned and quickly hurried into the gloom of the forest. At this point Harry could feel the tell tale signs of a Dementor nearby.

"Hermione! We have to get out of here, Dementors!"

Hermione, had recovered sufficiently from the shock of the events to finally get to her feet. They finally unbound Ginny and managed to barely support her older brother. Harry staggered over and hoisted Neville to his feet. The boy was finally beginning to come around. However, as the small party began to leave through the woods, they could feel the chill of the dark minions of Sirius closing in on them. The baying of a large dog seemed an ill omen

"Harry, we're not going to make it!" Hermione cried. "Can you hold them off?"

Harry shook his head solemnly. "I don't know. I think there is more than one!"

Ginny gingerly set her brother down and looked at her friends. "Hermione, Neville, can you get out of here faster without Ron and me?"

"Well, yes, Ginny, but we're not leaving you!" Hermione yelled.

"I wasn't suggesting you did, you daft witch, but I can get the two of us out of here and to the castle far faster than you can. My brother can't walk and if we stand around much longer, those things are going to get us."

Harry, seeing where she was going, nodded quickly. "Do it, Sparkplug. We'll be behind you."

Without another moment's hesitation, Ginny turned into a bright red lioness grabbed her brother by the back of the robes, and took off at a dead run.

"You know, if these things don't kill him, she just might," Neville remarked sardonically.

"She has a lot of explaining to do!" Hermione huffed in turn.

"No time for that shite now, mates. RUN!" They needed no further urging as Hermione and Harry ran on either side of Neville making sure their friend didn't fall.

Unfortunately, as Harry snuck a backwards glance, he could tell they weren't going to make it.

"Hermione, you're going to have to make do without me."

"What are you saying, Harry?"

"I'm saying, that you're going to have to make do without me. What I am implying is that I'm going to hold these toad suckers off for as long as I can, sex the consequences. You need to hurry, please."

Tears began streaming down Hermione's face and Neville looked extremely pained. "We can't leave you, mate," Neville nearly whispered.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Mr. Longbottom." The sudden and unexpected voice caused the small party to whirl around.

"Professor!" they all exclaimed.

"Yes, yes. Now, if you, Miss Granger, and you Mr. Potter would please assist Mr. Longbottom back to the castle, I'm quite confident that we can handle the situation."

"We, Professor?" Harry asked.

"Yes, pup, we! Now you lot get on. Moony and I have a little bit more to handle here. We'll be up and about in a moment!" The sudden arrival of Sirius Black was yet another shock and both Harry and Hermione, with unspoken consent, decided that they'd better get a move on before any more shocks came their way.

As they moved more and more rapidly towards looming castle, Harry could feel the questions beginning to build in Hermione's mind as clearly as he could hear the calls of '_Expecto Patronum'_ buying them time.

"When we get to the castle, we have to alert Dumbledore," Hermione muttered. Neither of the boys objected. For once, Harry could understand why they needed the old Kneazle molester. As they reached the flagstones, though, it seemed the dotty old man had already realised the need for his presence. With a mere nod, the Headmaster strode purposefully past them, with a grace that bore no indication to his years.

"Professor, Peter Pettigrew is in the forest and he's hurt!" Neville called out after their Headmaster. The man gave no sign of having heard him, but it made Neville feel a little better none the less.

"Do you think Ginny's made it back?" Hermione asked, anxiously.

"I'm sure we'll see her in the hospital. We need to get the human punching bag up there, too."

oOo

"How could you let Sirius Black escape?" Cornelius Fudge roared. The diminutive Minister of Magic had drawn himself up to his full height in an effort to give his rage the proper visual backing.

"As I had no notion that he was there, it made stopping the man rather difficult," was Dumbledore's calm reply.

"So, we've had two of You-Know-Who's most loyal supporters escape Azkaban, and we failed to recapture either of them. All we have for all our troubles is the corpse of a man whom you claim to be Peter Pettigrew. The very same Peter Pettigrew killed in an explosion nearly twelve years ago. Do you really think me that foolish, Albus?"

"I think you neither foolish, nor a fool Cornelius, however perhaps this discussion should be saved for my office and not held in the hospital with recovering students."

"I want to interview each and every one of them, the werewolf, too!" Fudge exclaimed. "I will have someone's head for this fiasco."

"Then perhaps you should try looking internally, Minister. You have the body of Peter Pettigrew, dead now, but very much whole. This would give credence to the theory that perhaps Sirius Black is not as guilty as he has been portrayed. As for the children, I think their ordeal may have been a bit much for them to recall anything of consequence to your investigation."

"We've discussed this, Albus. Sirius Black must be returned to Ministry custody before we can even contemplate reopening his case."

"He wasn't ever given a case," came a shout from one of the occupied hospital beds. Fudge studiously ignored it.

"If you please, Minister, the students have been through a great deal."

"Of course, Albus. Forgive me, but this morning has been extraordinarily trying. If you could arrange for the werewolf to come to your office, I do have some questions for him as well."

"Professor Lupin will indeed be there." A few moments later, the deep 'thunk' of the Hospital door closing signalled that all officious Ministry windbags had left the ward. Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ginny all climbed gingerly out of their beds and gathered silently around Ron's. They stood there silently for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall with the slow rhythm of sleep.

"Do they know when he'll wake up?" Ginny asked.

"Not for a couple of days at least, Sparkplug. I heard Madam Pomfrey say she wasn't sure what condition he'd be in with as much as he suffered this year. This might have done him in."

"Merlin…" Neville gasped. A moment later, Ginny began to sob quietly. A soft "Why… why…" emanating from her small form.

Sensing the need for privacy, Hermione stood and guided both the boys towards the door. "Let's leave her be. They needs a bit of time alone before their parents show up."

"You know, for an only child, you're awfully perceptive sometimes, Hermione."

"And for a boy who makes positively no sense, you are awfully thick sometimes, Harry. Now," Hermione continued once they were safely outside the hospital, "you, Harry Potter, are going to explain how Ginny managed an Animagus transformation in her second year!"

"Don't you think you should ask Ginny that?"

"No, Harry, because she is rather distraught at having her brother nearly killed on her account, and I know if anyone knows you know. Now tell us!"

At the withering glare he was receiving from both Hermione and Neville, Harry's resolve not to tell them anything lasted only slightly longer than a snowball in hell.

"I taught her," Harry confessed. "Well, she transformed accidentally when we were in the forest last year, but I helped her get it over the summer."

"Harry, you couldn't possibly…" Hermione's protests at her friend's absurd claim died in her throat, when a moment later a large black Kneazle stood before her.

"How on earth…" Hermione whispered. It seemed Neville was too astonished to form coherent sentences.

Harry Transformed back to a human before trying to speak. "I've always been one. I only learned to turn into a human the summer before I came to Hogwarts."

"Harry that's impossible!" Neville finally stammered.

"Improbable, yes, impossible, no. Sit down, I suppose I'll have to tell you the whole story."

So, after finding a deserted classroom, Harry told them the whole story that he knew. An hour later, both Hermione and Neville were looking at him as though he might just be certifiably insane.

"Harry, that is the craziest story I've ever heard," Neville said, flabbergasted.

"It gets better my first year."

"How?"

"I killed a teacher." Harry replied.

"Harry! That's not funny," Hermione scolded.

"I'm not laughing. Quirrell was possessed by Whoosa-mort, the dark lord bloke and he killed a Unicorn to try and get back a body. When I found him, I tore his throat out. Where do you think he went?"

"You were the Kneazle we found in the forest," Hermione gasped. "It's real… all of it."

"You're damn straight it's real. I told you because you're some of my closest friends. I would appreciate you keeping it to yourselves though. Dumbledore doesn't know I told you."

"It explains so much," Neville marvelled in wonderment. "I can't believe I didn't see it before..."

"It isn't like it happens every day, git. I mean if I hadn't shown you, would you have believed me?"

"No, I don't suppose we would have," Neville conceded.

"I wonder how Sirius escaped?" Harry mused. Both Hermione and Neville shrugged their shoulders. Dumbledore hadn't told them and no one seemed in the mood to press the issue. "Ah well, I think we need to get back to our beds before someone finds us missing and wets themselves. "

Unfortunately, the trio's attempts at stealthy re-entry failed spectacularly, as the entire Weasley clan was clustered around Ron's bed. Ginny was curled into Mr. Weasley's lap and the entire family was studiously staring at Ron's still form. The door shut with a loud bang, drawing the Weasley clan's attention.

Staring at each one of their faces, Harry could guess what they might be feeling: relief in the twins, disapproval from Percy, a sort of resigned sadness from Arthur, and a cold fury from Ginny's Mum. Harry stared straight back at her and took a step forward, then another. Soon he was walking forward with the same enthusiasm as a condemned man to his death. Harry's only consolation was that he would get the brunt of her wrath and spare his two friends.

Molly stood and stared at the young man walking towards her. His back was ramrod straight and his eyes looking straight forward, but as if they were not really seeing. Two emotions warred within the Weasley matriarch. The first of the two being that of relief and gratitude, Dumbledore had said that by all accounts, Harry Potter had saved the life of her only daughter. However, her second and more irrational side blamed him for the situation in the first place. If Harry hadn't been connected to Ginny, she might not have been taken in the first place. To have four of her seven children nearly die in two years was too much for any mother, even Molly Weasley.

Standing face to face, Harry prepared himself for the worst the Weasley matriarch could unleash. He didn't have to wait. With astonishing force, she delivered a slap to his right cheek, and another to the left, and then immediately broke into tears.

"Mum!" Ginny yelled. "You can't do that! Harry saved my life."

"He's the reason you were taken!" Molly shrieked.

"Molly, stop this now." The room suddenly went very silent. Sebastian seemed to materialize from the shadows and his voice as cold and hard as tempered steel. "You're upset as any mother has a right to be, but you will not go blaming Harry for the acts of deranged mad men. You're here to make sure your children are alright, in the future if you can't refrain from physical violence around the boy then I suggest you leave."

A fresh round of sobs wracked the red-headed woman as she sank to her knees. Arthur slid next to her and began to rub small circles on her back and murmur consoling noises incoherently. "My boy… oh my boy," was all she seemed to be saying

Blowing out a breath he didn't know he was holding, Harry went and stood next to his summer teacher. To tell the truth, the it the Kneazle-boy found himself shaken. The fierce matriarch of the Weasley family was a fearsome woman. To see her reduced to tears bothered Harry more than he would ever admit.

"She's not really angry with you, boy. The woman's scared and has a right to be."

"Yes, Uncle," Harry replied automatically.

"Uncle, eh?"

Harry turned red as he realized what he'd said. "I suppose after a fashion you are. If it is alright with you."

"It will do. However, if you ever sneak off like that after doing something so god-damned foolish again I'll do much more than slap you silly."

"Yes, Uncle," said Harry, acquiescing to the unspoken chastisement. He likely shouldn't have run off with Hermione and Neville, but Ginny had needed her space.

"Don't think you won't have yours, Longbottom," Sebastian growled. "Your Grandmother will be here in an hour." At that pronouncement, Neville's face went completely ashen. "Hehe, that was fun," Sebastian muttered.

Sometimes, Harry still didn't understand humans.

_AN: Here it is! One more to go. My wonderful beta pointed out that perhaps Molly was a bit more violent than canon, so I feel a brief explanation. 4 of her children have been nearly killed in 2 years, and she blames Harry for much of it. The fact that her youngest son may never wake up and that her only daughter was nearly killed by a sociopath would put a great deal of strain on any parent. To be clear, there is no Weasley Mum hate here! I think her reaction is realistic if not entirely justified. Anyway, on to happier thoughts. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and I hope to have 40 out before the end of September. That will wrap up Growing Up Kneazle! Then you can stay tuned for the sequel. On a side note, I was thinking about doing a Ted Tonks, Andromeda Black story. I'm rather tired of all the Ted is weak, silly, incompetent, and just not very confident stories on the market. I don't think he got to marry the middle Black sister by being timid. I do think he got there by being able to stand up to almost anything, including Bellatrix! Let me know what you think and as a shameless plug, it would be awesome if this story could break 1000 reviews._

_-To these things you must return…_


	40. Fireside Chats

Ch 40 Fireside Chat

Harry strolled through the portrait hole and back into the Gryffindor common room well pleased with himself. He'd managed to explain everything to the Pride and even convinced some of them to come hunting with him. Truthfully, it was just Rex, but they'd had a good time none the less.

The low glow of the fire gave his powerful Kneazle eyes more than enough light to navigate in the night, something that Harry was always thankful of. Humans were simply not meant to function after the sun went down. So it came as a bit of a surprise when Harry spotted Neville sitting on the floor near the fire. As this was not the boy's nightly routine, Harry decided to be a good friend and find out what might be the problem.

Transforming with no effort, he plodded over and sat down rather abruptly next to the other boy. "What's up, mate?" Harry inquired.

"Not much, I guess. Where were you?"

"Out hunting," Harry shrugged. After a few minutes of silence, Harry moved to stand.

"How did you deal with it?" Neville said, after a moment. His tone was listless.

Sitting back down, Harry thought about it a moment. "Going to have to be a bit more specific. Hermione might ask me the same thing about not doing my homework. I don't think that's what you mean though."

"How did you deal with killing Professor Quirrell?"

"Didn't really have to 'deal with it' I guess. I'd killed before, and I'd lost siblings. Granted I'd never killed a man, but then again I'd never had cause to. He killed a friend of mine. I killed him back. It was that simple."

"I don't know how you do it, Harry. I wish I could be as collected as you," Neville sniffed. "Every time I go to sleep, all I can see is that man's face. I know he was a bad man, but I killed him, Harry. I didn't mean to, but they say the path to hell is paved with good intentions."

After a moment Harry turned to his friend as spoke slowly and deliberately trying to ensure he wouldn't be misunderstood. "Would you rather it had been you, or perhaps Ginny? Maybe Ron, or Hermione?" Neville shook his head mutely. "I didn't think so. Killing doesn't make you a bad person, Neville. You killed to defend your Pride. You should be proud of that. The objective if you get in a fight isn't to die for your friends, though that is sometimes needed, the goal is to make the other sorry bastard die for theirs. You did that. I know you say you didn't mean to, but what was your alternative? You could have run, maybe. Left the rest of us to our fate. Would you have done that?"

"No, of course not!" Neville cried.

"I didn't think so. So, without a wand, what other choice did you have? You did what was needed and you still had the presence of mind to get out of the situation."

"I fainted."

"I pissed myself the first time I fought a dog."

Neville smiled a little. "Did you really grow up as a Kneazle? Grandmum never could figure where you were after you disappeared. After rumours got out that you were gone, it started going around that Dumbledore himself had taken you to train you personally."

Harry laughed, despite himself. He couldn't imagine a more different scenario than what had actually happened. "Yes, I did. I'm not so sure I'm not one, but keep it to yourself."

Neville chuckled a little. "Does it ever get better?"

"I think so. Try not to focus too much on it. Remember, we still have exams."

"Bloody hell, you're right, and we've potions tomorrow. So, on that happy thought, I should really get back to bed."

"Me too," Harry replied as he leaned forward, stretching his hands out as far as he could while still sitting.

"You're the real thing aren't you?" Neville murmured humorously.

"What do you mean?" Harry was puzzled.

"You started kneading the carpet. It all makes so much sense, now. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, mate."

oOo

"I'm quite pleased with the progress you've made in these few days, Mr. Potter. How has tutoring been going with the other classes?" McGonagall asked, setting her wand down.

"They're going well, Professor," Harry replied a little guiltily. It wasn't a lie, exactly, but he still hadn't approached Professor Snape about it, yet. The other Professors were usually suitably inclined after Harry explained to them the situation and Professor Flitwick even commended him on his ambition. Harry had neglected to tell them about his cousin's coercion in the matter.

"I am pleased to hear that, Harry. Especially in light of what happened last week. I commend you on being so quick with your initiative. However, it has come to my attention that you still have not approached Professor Snape. May I ask why?"

"Do you mean apart from the fact that I'm reasonably sure he hates me, Professor?"

"I assure you, Mr. Potter; Professor Snape does not hate you."

"Could have fooled me," Harry muttered. "Well, I was under the apparently mistaken assumption that he did in fact hate me, and as such I was more than a little wary of the idea of placing myself in close proximity to the man, lest some harm befall either him or me."

"While you do have a valid point, Cousin, and at least one professor has met a rather unsavory end due to your direct involvement, I think that Professor Snape is better than that. So, I must insist that you find him and discuss the possibility of help outside of class."

Harry sighed loudly. "I don't suppose pointing out that all this extra studying is cutting into my naptime will get me any sympathy, will it?"

"No, Mr. Potter, it won't. Neither will pointing out that it reduces your frolicking time. You've had plenty of extra time to do both. Your studies must come first this time."

"I suppose," Harry huffed. "Is it alright if I go try to find Snape now?"

"_Professor _Snape, Harry and yes I think it would be a fine idea. I happen to know he cleans cauldrons and organizes his stock room every Saturday at about this time. That should make him somewhat easier to track down."

As Harry stood and began to gather up his things, the door to the classroom flew open. "Paws, he's awake!"

"About damn time, Sparkplug!" Harry whooped, and dropping everything, grabbed Ginny's hand and raced out the door.

McGonagall stood stock still, and stared intently at the space her student used to occupy and muttered to herself, "I wonder if that boy oughtn't to have been in Hufflepuff."

A few minutes later, Harry, Ginny and Hermione were standing around Ron's bed, the lanky red-head looking a little worse for the wear, but happy enough and definitely conscious.

"How are you feeling, mate?" Harry finally asked, once he had his breath back.

"Did anyone get the number on the Lorry that hit me?"

"A lorry didn't hit you…" Harry trailed off. Ron merely sighed.

"I know, Harry. It was a joke. I feel like shite. Madam Pomfrey doesn't know how I'm even in my right mind. Said the force of the curse would have snapped most people." Ron looked a little shaken at his admission.

"I'm so glad you're alright, Ron. We were quite worried about you," Hermione finally interjected. Her face began to colour a soft red.

"Were you worried then, Hermione?"

"We all were, Ron. I'm sure I was, too. I don't need to tell you how badly you looked when Ginny finally got you back here."

"Right, but I mean were you worried… you know… extra?" Ron's ears began to flame and Harry could smell the tension in the air, and he was about to say something when Ginny interrupted the potential lover's quarrel. Throwing her arms around her brother's neck, Ginny's self-control finally cracked.

"You… you … Git! Why did you have to go and play the hero? You've already wound up in here once this year and Mum was going spare the whole time. I can't believe you stepped in front of that for me," she sobbed.

Ron patted her back awkwardly. "You're my sister, Ginny. What was I supposed to do? I can't let Harry have everything, can I?" He smirked a little at that.

"Have they said when you'll be released yet?"

"Nah, Pomfrey wants to keep me a few days, but I'll be out and about before you can say Quidditch."

"Quidditch," Harry replied.

"Arse." Ron's reply was muffled through the form of his sister, who had jumped on top of him, delivering a bone crunching hug. No one thought it wise to comment on the tears flowing feely down the girl's face.

"Think we should leave them to some sibling time?" Harry asked. Hermione merely nodded. "We'll leave you two alone. I have to find Professor Snape, anyway."

Nodding, Ron made a gentle shooing motion with his hand, while at the same time trying to consol his sobbing sister.

Closing the door behind them, Harry felt a little guilty that it was Ron and not he who had to deal with the distraught female. With that pleasant thought, the young Kneazle mustered up his courage and began the long walk to the dungeons.

Unfortunately, the walk was over far too quickly, and Harry found himself staring at the slightly ajar door to the Potions classroom. Harry's knuckles made a soft rapping sound that seemed to echo eerily in the deserted corridor.

"Come in!" Snape barked, and Harry gingerly pushed his way into his least favourite classroom in the school.

"Professor, I was hoping to talk with you briefly," Harry began.

"Then make it exceedingly so, Mr. Potter. I've no time for attention seeking, delusional idiots in my classroom," Snape snapped.

"I was hoping, sir, that you might be willing to donate a little of your time to assisting me with gaining a better grasp on the fine art of potion making." Harry nearly choked on the words, but it sounded suitably close to something that Hermione might say, so he was hoping the teacher would take it. According to Cousin McGonagall, a good potions master could make a near infinite supply of Kneazle treats, which was the only reason at this point that Harry was bothering the greasy, overgrown bat.

Snape let out an uncharacteristically loud laugh, which reminded Harry rather closely of Mr. Black. He wondered if the two were friends. "Mr. Potter, you, of all my students, are the least likely to grasp even the simplest rudiments of potion brewing, and also the least deserving of my time. You have squandered your chance to improve through your repeated and incessant failure to do your homework and were it not for the talented Miss Granger, I have no doubt that your incompetence would rival even the Longbottom boy's."

Harry glared at his professor. He was asking a simple enough thing, there was no need to be rude, Harry thought. Perhaps a subtle name drop would help the man see the worthiness of the Kneazle cause. He decided to throw in his trademarked 'cute kitten eyes of pleading' for good measure. Ginny was never able to resist them, and Harry doubted the Potion Master's ability surpassed that of his molly… er, human. "Professor McGonagall had suggested that perhaps you might be willing…"

"So it was all her idea? I should have guessed, you are as lazy as you are incompetent, Potter. I, for one, won't be party to her schemes to cover up any further of your misdeeds," Snape growled as he studiously avoided Harry's gaze.

"Ah, so I am to assume that your response is a 'no'?"

"Yes, now leave, Potter."

"You know, it is a shame, Professor."

After hanging in the air for a moment, Snape finally asked, "What is?"

"That my ability in the fine art of potion making is rivalled only by your skill as a teacher, good day, sir."

With that parting shot, Harry strode purposefully out of the dungeons. He knew it wasn't wise to provoke the old man, but Harry bristled at the insinuations against Hermione, Neville and himself. So deep in thought, Harry didn't see anything in front of him until he ran forcefully into it.

"Oohff! Ohhh.. sexing meow," Harry grumbled as he dusted himself off and looked up to see what he'd run into. The amused expressions of Fred and George Weasley stared back.

"Alright there, Harrikins?" Fred asked, extending a hand to help the younger boy up.

"What brings you down to the dreariest of dungeons?" George continued.

"Had to ask Professor Snape for a bit of help. It seems I'm a little behind in my studies."

"How did that go, then?" George prodded.

"Terribly. He told me I wasn't any good at it, and made a few cutting remarks about my friends and then I sort of told him he wasn't a very good professor and stormed out."

"Wait… explain, from the beginning," Fred demanded, slowly. So Harry obliged, recalling as closely as he could word for word the exchange between the professor and himself. At the end, both boys' jaws were hanging open and admiration shown in their eyes. "George, my dear brother, I believe it is our duty,"

"Nay, our privilege," George continued. "To assist this fine and upstanding younger student in his endeavours. "

"I agree, in repayment for nothing less than the finest retort I've ever heard anyone give that grease ball and escape alive."

"Erm… I don't mean to be rude, mates, but I need to do well, we've only a little over a month left, and I don't remember either of you being great hands at your lessons."

"He wounds me, dear brother!" Fred declared, with mock sincerity. A moment later both became serious, and George finally spoke.

"You're right, of course, Harry. We were always too busy with a joke to take school too seriously, though we did get good marks. Not as great as Percy or Bill, perhaps, but more than enough to get the O.W.L. results we want, and we do owe you, Harry, for saving our lives. I think that this is as good a chance as any to begin repaying that."

Harry sputtered in protest. "I didn't do it for payment. You'd have done the same for me!"

"But we didn't, mate. You and that daft git of a brother of ours did, and we take such things seriously. Moreover, we've discovered that our marks have gone up now that we're not so busy trying to make everyone laugh."

"Can we tell you a secret?" George whispered. Harry merely nodded. "We were planning on opening a joke shop, once we're out of here, but I think you knew that. No, my dear brother had a crazy idea. We're still going into business for ourselves, but we'll be designing for the Ministry!"

Harry looked between the two boys nervously. He was on pins and needles waiting for the prank. After a few moments, when it didn't come he finally asked, "Alright, what's the joke?"

"No joke, Harry. We'd already had a couple of product prototypes made up for the joke shop, and we were going to give them to Dad, as part of turning over a new leaf, but this crazy bloke," Fred jerked his thumb at his twin, "Came up with the idea that with a little modification they could be used by the Auror department. We showed them to Bill in Egypt and he agreed. He's even field testing a few of them for us right now. With his help, we might be able to get an 'in' with Gringotts and then on to the Ministry!" Fred finished excitedly.

"That's great, mates, that really is, but what does it have to do with me?"

"The point my long-winded sibling is getting at, is that not only do we have the dedication to help you with your wayward potion skills, but we also have the added bonus of being able to get you to help us a little with some of our creations. Nothing dangerous or too complicated, mind you, but I think this could be a suitable arrangement."

"So, you get some free help, and I don't have to deal with Snape the Kneazle eater?"

"Sounds about right, chum."

Harry grinned. "You're on."

oOo

"Harry, I'm sorry to say, but this is the last extra lesson I'll be able to give you." Professor Lupin spoke so quietly that even Harry's human ears had to perk a little to understand him.

"Why, Professor? Is it exams? That time of the month again? We do only have two weeks left, so I understand completely."

Lupin merely shook his head mournfully. "My dear, naïve boy," he whispered and then continued in a louder voice. "No, I'm sorry, Harry. It seems that after thorough review and consideration the board of governors has found me 'unsuited' to the position as Defence teacher."

"Oh?" Now Harry was genuinely confused. The man was a wolf, which was worrisome, but he was a part time wolf so Harry need only be worried part of the time. It wasn't as though students were mysteriously being eaten.

"Yes, it seems that my furry status and the recent run in with Sirius Black has shown me to be 'terribly unqualified for a position of trust and leadership with today's youth'." The professor made a bitter face at the proclamation.

"That's shite. You're a hunter, Professor, and while I don't trust you completely, you certainly have shown due care that you didn't eat any of my fellow students. I find your restraint admirable, along with your assisting me with lessons."

Lupin responded with a dark chuckle. "I admire your honesty, Harry, but sometimes discretion is the better part of valour and tact is not merely a word in the dictionary."

"I will take it under advisement. Who will be teaching us, if not you?"

"Since there is so little time before the end of term, they will be cancelling the remaining lessons and I believe Professor Dumbledore will be administering your exams."

"Damn," Harry muttered.

"Something the problem?"

"Not as long as he doesn't try to grab me, again."

"I see… Well, as this is your last lesson, I suppose we should make the best of it."

"I suppose we should," Harry agreed.

An hour later, Harry felt himself on the edge of exhaustion and was glad when Professor Lupin called a halt to their activities. The older man gently extended his hand, which Harry took tentatively.

"It has been a real treat to be able to assist you, Harry. I wish you luck in the rest of your endeavours."

"Thank you, Professor, though may I ask a question?"

"I suppose."

"I understand why I needed to be able to produce a Patronus, and I appreciate the duelling lessons, but why did you tell me all about the Nundu? It isn't like I'm ever going to meet one."

Lupin chuckled. "With your luck, Harry, I'd not bet a single Knut on that."

Harry smiled and was quiet a moment, before asking again, "May I pose another question, Professor?"

"Sure."

"Where did Mr. Black get to?"

A shadow passed over Lupin's face, exacerbating the already hollow look. "He left, Harry. I'm sorry to say there wasn't much left for him here. I'd hoped he could get in touch with you, but to be truthful I don't know where he's gone. We both thought it better that way."

"I suppose. I'm just confused; the Minister promised him a trial or something, didn't he?'

"That's what I'd heard, but I don't think Sirius was terribly inclined to take it. He'd have to explain it to you. Now, if you'll excuse me, tomorrow is my last day here and so I do have rather a lot to do before I'm chucked rather unceremoniously back into the world."

Harry nodded briefly and without a word left the room. Pausing only briefly to catch a glimpse of the nicest wolf-man he'd ever met. Perhaps, just perhaps, not all dogs were evil, he thought.

It was due to his preoccupation with his recent revelation that Harry one again ran into the Weasley twins, head first. "There are better ways of getting our attention, you know," Fred began.

"However, as we've been looking for you, it seems rather lucky that we've found you here. Meet us tonight in the Transfiguration classroom. Say, six o'clock?"

Harry nodded dumbly. What on earth would they be doing in the Transfiguration classroom, he wondered as both boys clapped him on the shoulder and strode off in the opposite direction, leaving Harry to ponder how they planned on absconding with Cousin McGonagall's classroom without her noticing.

At precisely six, Harry found out. He crept timidly into the domain of his older and though he would never admit it, even to himself, wiser cousin. There, he found several cauldrons set up and a variety of potion ingredients.

"Welcome, Harry. My dear brother was just saying how you wouldn't have the nerve to show up."

"I was not, you git!"

After another moment of a sibling squabble, Harry cleared his throat which seemed to narrowly avoid a physical altercation.

"You were saying, gentlemen?" Harry asked.

"Ah, yes, we were saying, welcome to your new potion training site. We spoke with the good professor and she seemed quite willing to allow us the use of this space provided we put things to rights before we leave."

"She was okay with it?" Harry repeated with disbelief.

Both boys smiled broadly. "Unusually so. If I didn't know better, I'd say she fancied you, Harrikins," Fred teased.

"I guess she is family," Harry muttered.

"Right then, where to begin..." George proclaimed, and with that Harry found a new love that he'd never realized before.

"So if I add the asphodel, before the lacewings, it causes the potion to increase in potency, but if I add them after the whole thing explodes?"

"You're getting it, Harry," George praised. Both twins were secretly glad that their pupil was beginning to show a little aptitude after the three hours they'd spent with him, sharing some of their most vital secrets. He finally had begun to understand the fundamentals of the fine art of potion making.

"It's about that time, mates," Fred concluded. "We promised the good professor we'd be to bed before ten."

"Can we do this again? I feel like I've learned loads, already," Harry bounced excitedly. The twins shared a look and both nodded imperceptibly.

"We'll have to ask McGonagall again, but I think we can manage something. This helps us with our O.W.L.s as well." It also didn't hurt that if Harry became a fair hand at potion making, it would infuriate Snape to no end. This too was a noble pursuit in the mind of all Gryffindors. "Now, we'll clean up here, Harry. Why don't you get back to the tower."

Harry nodded and bounded out of the room. He found himself eager, for the first time in his life, to begin brewing his next potion. As he gently fell asleep in his bed that night, Harry found himself enjoying the thought of school. He wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or greatly worried.

oOo

"Good night, Sparkplug," Harry whispered as Ginny began slowly climbing the stairs. She waved a sleepy good night, and as Harry began to turn to his own dorm Ron's familiar voice stopped him.

"Where've you been?" Ron asked.

"Out saying goodbye to my friends in the Forest. Angelina is rather upset, with Electrolux not being around. I tried to help, but how do you comfort a car?" Harry wandered over and sat next to his mate. The fire was burning low, but it still put out enough light to see.

"I don't hardly believe it, Harry. I mean, Ginny told me what you are, and what she is, but it doesn't seem real. You're bloody lucky, you know that, right?"

Harry shrugged. "I've got thirteen lives, that's all."

"Wish I did," Ron grumbled. "Bloody hell. Maybe I wouldn't be stuck with this ruddy thing," Ron groused as he tapped his cane on a metal brace supporting his left leg.

"Have they said when it can come off?"

"No, bloody healers. Don't know a bloody thing. Can't even fix a bloke's leg."

"Ron, mate, you were hit by a sexing powerful curse by one of the most evil wizards I've ever run across. You're lucky you ever woke up."

"That's what Hermione keeps telling me, but I don't feel lucky. I can't ride a broom, and now I can't even walk properly. I'm bloody useless, that's what I am!" Ron nearly bellowed.

"Ginny didn't think so, and neither did Hermione. Do you wish you'd let either one of them get hurt instead?"

"Of course not!"

"Then, my best advice is to quit complaining about things you can't change and focus on emphasizing the good."

Ron snorted. "What good do I possibly have? Not like a girl will even take a second look at me now."

Harry smiled a little. "You are by far the bravest man I know. You followed me twice to near certain death. You're the best chess player in Gryffindor, and you're smarter than you ever give yourself credit for. No, you may never be the head of the Pride, but I'd ask for your help in a tight corner without a second thought, leg or no leg. I know for a fact that mollies love a tom with a few battle scars. Shows how tough he is. Not to mention the fact that you helped us embarrass Slytherin in the Quidditch final more than I ever thought possible."

Ron shrugged morosely. "It wasn't that big a deal, Harry. I mean, it wasn't like I caught the bloody Snitch or anything."

Harry smiled broadly at his glum friend. "Ron, somehow you managed to have nearly two-thirds of the pitch chanting 'Draco Malfoy takes it up the arse'. If that doesn't qualify as a monumentally spectacular moment in all of Hogwarts history, I don't know what does."

"We still lost the House Cup, though. Hermione wasn't too pleased about that."

Harry shrugged. "And I'm sure the huge number of points McGonagall deducted from all three houses for your creative chant put Slytherin as the only real contestant to win, but the way I see it, you made the right choice."

"How do you figure, mate?"

"I have a saying, Ron. Never let gold and jewels stand between doing what is right. It is all too common to take the easy way out. It would have been easier to sit back and watch us thoroughly crush Slytherin and that pompous Malfoy git, but instead you decided to add insult to injury and humiliate him as well. Despite the known dangers of McGonagall's wrath."

Ron frowned. "Harry, I don't think what I did has anything to do with your saying. Looking back, it was funny enough, but I'm not sure Hermione wasn't right and it wasn't terribly awful."

"You made Neville smile. He hasn't done that since we got back from the forest."

Ron smiled a little. "You really think so?"

"Hermione told me herself. Why do you think she only ranted at you for a minute or two?"

"I thought she might have found it as funny as we did."

"Nah. I think she was just convinced you were really doing it all for Neville's benefit and not because you hate Malfoy."

"She was wrong."

"I know," Harry shrugged. "But don't tell her that. She loves a man who will stand up for what he believes in. She also loves a man with a good intellect."

Ron sputtered and turned red. "What in the bloody hell does that have to do with anything?"

Harry smirked as he rose. "That, my friend, is a question you're going to have to answer for yourself. I'd just recommend studying a bit more next year. You don't want to be like me and barely pass everything."

Ron glared at him. "You did better than me in Potions!"

"That was only because I have a score to settle with Snape. Anyway, we're heading home tomorrow, so I think I better be off to bed."

"Harry," Ron called after him.

"Yes?"

"Is Neville going to be alright? He's been a bit off since we got back."

"In time, but you helped." With that, Harry turned, headed up the stairs, and for the last night curled on top of his bed.

The common room the following morning was a symphony of chaos, and Harry loved it.

They managed to board the train and settle into a compartment. Harry even convinced Hermione to let Crookshanks out of his cage. After a few minutes of distinctly uncomfortable silence with Neville staring off into space, Ron and Hermione trying to be as distant as possible to each other, yet failing spectacularly every time their hands would come into contact, causing crimson blushes to appear on both their faces. Ginny gave Harry a knowing look and then stood.

"I think we're going to get a bit of fresh air. We'll be back in a bit."

"Of course," Neville mumbled.

Upon opening the door, the faces of Harry's three least favourite year mates stood rather unexpectedly in front of him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron snarled. Ron had become, since his release from the hospital, even more hostile towards the blond Slytherin boy.

"Just to pass on a message, Weasel, so hold your tongue when your betters are present."

"When I see someone better than me, I will," Ron retorted.

"Bloody Filch is better than you, blood traitor."

Harry gazed rather impassively at his nemesis and at the same time put a restraining arm on Ginny. "You know, Malfoy, this compartment may in fact be the only one containing anyone who's actually killed a man. Do you really think it's wise to start something when you're so clearly outclassed?" Harry cocked one eyebrow in the recognized form of a challenge.

"I may be outnumbered, Potter, but I'll never be outclassed by their filth."

"Draco, I have thus far been rather accommodating because today is such a beautiful day that I would hate to make whomever cleans the train have to remove your blood from the carpet, but if you insist on behaving like a common flobberworm, then I'm afraid you leave me no choice," Neville spoke softly, but with an authority Harry hadn't heard before. It sounded almost like something he would have said, himself. Glancing back briefly, Harry noticed that Neville had stood. "And please keep in mind, who in this compartment has killed a man. What's another?" Harry doubted anyone else could see it, but the blonde boy's sneer faltered for just a moment, before he thrust a grimy piece of parchment into Ginny's hands.

"Take it, filth." With that, he and both his gorilla-like companions stormed away.

Ginny stared down at it with an expression of pure loathing. "What's it say?" Ron finally asked.

"Dear Red Weasel, I look forward to playing with you, soon. You aren't free until I'm dead. Be afraid."

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured. Harry grabbed the parchment from his human just as she began to cry.

"Listen here, Ginny," he whispered, as he held her against his chest. "You'll be safe as long as I'm around. He made a mistake sending us that. He won't be able to get to Hogwarts so easily next year, and no one is coming near you at home without me knowing. I'll kill him the first chance I get, Sparkplug."

"Why? Why would you risk yourself again for me, Harry?" Ginny whispered so softly Harry had to strain his ears to hear.

He smiled in a rather lopsided manner. "Because no one makes you cry."

The sombre mood was broken a moment later, by a frantic tapping on the window. Ron stood, laboriously and opened it, allowing a small and highly agitated owl in the compartment.

'Oh, look, a snack,' Crookshanks muttered.

"It's not for eating, git. It's got a letter."

"Open it up then, Harry."

He did so and inside was the untidy scrawl of what Harry assumed to be the writing of Mr. Black.

'_Dear Harry,_

_I'm sorry I didn't get to say goodbye, but I didn't think that you'd be too broken up about that sort of thing when being chased by Dementors. I've left the country, for now, but I'll always be in touch if you need anything. I'm sorry we never got off to the proper sort of relationship a Godfather and his Godson are supposed to have, but I hope you'll learn to give me a chance in time. I hope you had a chance to use your broom in the Quidditch final, as I'd imagine you're rather stranded without a Hippogriff. You are the most amazing young man I have ever met, Mr. Potter, and I believe your father would have been enormously proud of you. From the way you talk, at least one of them already is. Keep up the good work and try not to give me great-Godkittens any time soon. I know how a tom can be when he sees a cute molly. I'd tell you to keep the owl, since you don't have one of your own, but I've grown rather fond of the little creature in a short time and I would hate to have it boiled, braised or prepared tandoori style. Perhaps one of your friends is in need of one? _

_Most affectionately,_

_Your Loving Dogfather, Mr. Black_

_P.S. I'm sure you're wondering why I haven't turned myself in yet. A friend connected with the Ministry told me a little bit ago that she heard the Minister discussing ways to resolve my situation. I think only one of their ideas involved me getting a trial. Suffice to say, I don't feel terribly assured of justice running its course uninterrupted at the moment. Take care of yourself, kidder. I'll always be here if you need me._ '

Harry smiled a little and gently folded the letter into one of his schoolbooks for the moment.

"Would you like an owl, Ron?"

"Is it really an owl, or is it another nutter who's going to try and kill us all again?"

"Pretty sure it's an owl."

"Don't you want it, mate?" Neville questioned.

"Nah, with my luck I'd just get hungry and throw the little bugger in the oven."

Ginny gasped. "Harry Potter! You're almost civilized. Cooking your food first. What would your Kneazles say?"

The entire compartment burst out laughing and then Ron shrugged, "Yeah, a bloke can always use a decent owl."

Harry smiled a little at his friend's feigned indifference. Ron was coming back.

"Blood hell, there's Mum," Ron breathed as the assorted Weasleys and Harry disembarked the train. Harry stared at the woman with a fair bit of confusion. She didn't seem angry or hysterical any longer, though one might expect her to still be. She seemed… unsure.

What she was unsure about, he couldn't begin to fathom, and it was a little worrisome. In all the years he'd been around the family, Harry had never once seen Mum Weasley at a loss for a course of action. He didn't always agree with her course, but he respected the fact that she stuck to it, despite his warning mewling.

"Children, get in the car," she called, and then turned to Harry. "Erm, nice to see you again, Harry. I'm… that is to say… well, I do apologise, but that seems terribly insufficient…" She trailed off again. At this point, Harry was mildly distracted by the fact that it seemed the Weasleys were to be taking Arabella's Volvo, but as of yet no one had sat in the front, and so he was hardly listening to her.

"May I have the front seat, Mum Weasley?"

"Oh, why yes, of course, dear," Molly said a little bemused. Harry patted the woman's shoulder and trotted over to the car and with Ginny's help placed his trunk in the magically augmented boot.

Molly stared after the boy with a confused expression on her face, until a loud pop from the direction of the platform drew her attention. Her moment's distraction was a moment too long as the sound of a car engine firing up and doors slamming drew her attention back around. "What are you doing?" she screamed, but it was doubtful that the occupants of the car could hear her over the squealing of tires.

"Harry," Ginny exclaimed as Harry gunned the engine of the Volvo. "You can't steal Mum's car!"

"It isn't Mum's, it's Arabella's, and I have absolutely no doubt that she would have no problem at all with us stealing her car."

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Ron yelled. "But what about Percy and Mum?"

"They can Apparate, Ron," George interjected. "I'm far more worried about whether or not Harry can drive this."

"Not, really," Harry said. "But I can't really do a lot of things I do, so why should this be any different? Not to mention, I'm sure that Sebastian has put a few special charms on this since Arabella's was in that accident a few years ago. "

"Well then, I don't think we have anything to worry about," Ron said and promptly leaned against the window and did his best to fall asleep around the loud blaring of horns from oncoming motorists Harry managed to barely avoid.

_AN: That's it, folks! The end to Growing Up Kneazle. I can't believe it has been nearly two years in the making. Never fear, I fully plan on doing a sequel to this but a break is needed. I want to give you the best story I can, so I hope you'll forgive the delay. I am also looking for any good suggestions on how Harry might go about winning the second task. I'm at a bit of a loss for this one. I hope you enjoyed the ride and I'm flattered that each one of you has taken the time to read to this point. I'm also planning a Ted/Andromeda Tonks story. If anyone has any suggestions about that, please let me know. Thank you to each and every reviewer and faithful reader. Also, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to friends of mine who just got a new job. Nhis and Crikki, I wish you the best._


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